


Double Down

by TwilightKnight17



Series: Discord Fics of the Apocalypse [8]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fuck Or Die, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Rope Bondage, You know what that means!, interrogation room bullshit, some implied fuckery if you squint, the Casino is a great excuse for shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightKnight17/pseuds/TwilightKnight17
Summary: With one week to route the Treasure before the final heist at the Casino, the Phantom Thieves find themselves roped into a game they weren't expecting, and the consequences might be more than any of them are emotionally prepared to handle.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Series: Discord Fics of the Apocalypse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1407949
Comments: 134
Kudos: 592





	1. Chapter 1

It was a high price to open the gate beyond the high-limit floor of the Casino so they could reach the Treasure. Fortunately, with a little over a thousand coins left from the previous floor, they would have enough if they cleared just two of the high-limit floor’s three games.

The House of Darkness was advertised as a navigational challenge, where proxies were sent in to find their way through a pitch-black maze. It sounded simple enough in theory. In reality, the Thieves found themselves creeping through the dark, relying on Joker’s third eye to avoid the high-level shadows that waited to kill unwary participants.

It made sense that the games were harder than they appeared. The whole Casino was rigged, after all. So they knew they had to choose carefully which of the other two games to test their luck on. The battle arena was described as a standard set of one-on-one matches, which basically guaranteed that something was going to be amiss. The other game, according to the sign, was some sort of performance instead.

  
_Glass Ceiling_   
_A challenge to test your acting abilities, and the trust and intimacy between participants!_   
_Two proxies carry out different actions for the viewers to gain points._   
_Beat the high score to win ten times your bet!_

“So… It’s some kinda trust exercise?” Ryuji asked.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Makoto said. “And honestly, it sounds safer than the battle arena. We wouldn’t have to send someone in alone.”

“Doesn’t that depend on what the actions are? What if it wants one person to stab the other or something?” Ann asked.

Makoto shook her head. “The games so far have been unfair, but not cruel. You don’t kill someone for a trust exercise.”

“Frankly, you don’t generally fight your way through a maze, either,” Goro pointed out.

“Is no one worried about the ‘intimacy’ part?” Futaba asked.

“It would probably be fairest to vote,” Haru said. “Unless you want to decide, Joker, since it would likely be you going into the battle arena.”

Akira, hands in his pockets, looked thoughtfully between the sign and his team. The battle arena was a much more straightforward challenge; there weren’t many ways to cheat. It was pretty obvious that if he went into the arena, he’d be facing more than one opponent at a time, which… based on what he’d seen in the Casino already, he could probably handle, unless that wailing thing from the House of Darkness showed up.

On the other hand, this game was a lot more ambiguous about what was involved. But it didn’t sound like fighting, and might offer some opportunities the arena didn’t.

“A vote sounds fair,” he said. “I’m fine with either option.”

In the end, it was unanimous in favor of the trust exercise. Akira watched them all raise their hands, and when it was clear what the decision was, he said, “All right. Well, I’m going in, obviously.”

“I should go with you. Nobody’s got more trust than us!” Ryuji said loudly.

Morgana hissed. “I’m around all the time! We have so much more understanding!”

“Perhaps we should let Joker decide, rather than bickering? We’ve done several variations of this argument before.” Yusuke frowned at both of them, arms folded, and they both had the decency to look contrite.

Akira glanced at Goro, who had been mostly quiet since they’d returned to the high-limit lobby. The House of Darkness had left them all pretty shaken, so it was understandable. And like he’d thought, this was an opportunity. “I’ll take Crow with me.”

_“What?!”_ Ryuji blurted. The other Thieves were equally surprised, though Futaba’s stare turned calculating almost immediately.

Goro looked shocked for a moment before smoothing his expression back out to something unaffected. “Hm? Me? All right.”

Makoto seemed to be of much the same mind. As the Thieves walked into the hallway that led to the game area, she grabbed Akira’s arm, tugging him to the back of the group. “Joker,” she hissed. “What are you doing? You’re taking _Crow_ in there?”

“You said it sounded safer than the battle arena,” Akira reminded her.

“Because I assumed you would pick someone other than our newest member! Why him?” Makoto insisted quietly, and both of them knew that ‘newest member’ was a fill-in for ‘assumed murderer’.

“Why not him?” Akira countered. “He’s supposed to think we trust him. It’s a gambling team-building exercise. We’ll be fine.”

Makoto looked like she wanted to argue, but if the discussion escalated at all, everyone else was going to hear. Including Goro. So she glared at him, making it very clear that she didn’t approve of his decision, and followed the rest of the group into the room at the end of the hallway. There was a large observation window that looked down into another room, like you would find in a lab, and a panel with an oversized screen. Futaba elbowed everyone out of the way to get to it immediately. “Screens and buttons are my territory. Move aside, nerds.”

When Futaba touched the screen, it lit up, displaying instructions.

_[Participants, enter through the door to the right.]_

A door camouflaged as part of the wall slid open, and Goro looked back at Akira. “I suppose that’s us, then,” he said lightly, and Akira nodded, following him through and down a short staircase into the bare observation room. They took a moment to look around, but it really was just an empty room, and Akira looked up at the window. His friends were clearly visible, watching them poke around, and Akira suppressed a sudden uncomfortable feeling. This was fine. It was just his friends.

“Oracle, what does it say now?” he called.

“Well…” Futaba’s voice came from speakers near the ceiling, letting them hear her despite the glass. “First of all, the door locked behind you. I don’t think you’re getting out until you beat the high score.”

“Wonderful,” Goro said dryly. “Anything else?”

“There’s more rules,” Futaba continued. “Actions are divided into tiers. Each tier unlocks when an action from the previous tier has been completed. Buttons will turn blue when points can be claimed, and each action can only be claimed for points once even if completed multiple times…”

Makoto leaned over to see the screen. “Actions can be combined, and the combined point total takes the multiplier of the highest-tiered action. Bonus points can be obtained once their button lights up… This makes sense, actually. I was expecting much stranger rules.”

“It sounds as if there is some strategy to it,” Yusuke commented. “Completing an action, but not claiming the points, to unlock a higher tier and better multipliers, then repeating that action later for greater value.”

Ryuji grinned. “Between Oracle and Queen, we should have this in the bag, then!”

Futaba frowned. “It also says that if the participants aren’t going to reach the high score, you can pull the switch beside the screen to end the game and remove them. I really don’t want to know what they mean by ‘remove’, so we’re gonna have to act the scene until the end.”

Akira smirked. “Let’s get this play started, then!”

With a flourish, Futaba pushed the ‘start’ button underneath the rules. The screen went dark, then an array of rectangular buttons rippled out to fill the space, dimmed to show that they hadn’t unlocked yet. The first set of actions illuminated in a soft yellow, and at the same time, the observation room...changed. Similar to the way the real world wavered to change into the distortions of the metaverse, the room seemed to change beneath their feet. Suddenly there was soft carpet, walls draped in rich velvet, carefully angled lights… and a luxurious-looking bed. Akira glanced at Goro, who gave no indication what he was thinking, and swallowed hard. With a cocky smile, he quipped, “Maybe you get to read me a story. Morgana’s made sure I’m an expert at going to sleep.”

Goro shot him the driest look he’d ever seen. But before he could offer up a scathing critique of Akira’s sense of humor, Futaba said slowly, “So, uh… Remember when no one but me was suspicious about the ‘intimacy’ thing in the game description?”

Akira looked up at the window, where most of the Thieves were staring at the control screen with varying degrees of concern, disbelief, and disgust, and felt his stomach drop. “Oracle? Is everything okay?”

Up in the control room, the Thieves all looked around at each other awkwardly. Ann pressed a fist to her mouth, scanning the screen. “W-We can’t make them do that.”

“They’re locked in. What are we supposed to do?” Makoto countered, in the voice of someone trying very hard not to be hysterical.

“There is that switch to end the game…” Ryuji said. “We could just forfeit and go do the battle arena.”

“And if that switch ends the game by killing the players? Can we risk that?” Makoto snapped.

“Guys, what is it? I can’t see!” Morgana said, hopping up and down on his tiny legs. 

Haru scooped him up, looking determinedly calm. “Please do what you have to, to get Joker out of there,” she said firmly. “But I cannot watch this. Not with _him_. I’ll take Mona-chan and wait in the lobby.”

They could hear Akira, more concerned now, calling for answers, and all of them fumbled for a second. Haru disappeared back down the hall towards the lobby, gently deflecting Morgana’s questions, and Futaba turned back to the screen. “So, Joker, Crow, the...uh, actions are a little more difficult than what we were expecting.”

“What does _that_ mean?” Goro asked. He folded his arms, looking for all the world like he was about to start tapping his foot with annoyance. “Don’t dance around it, just tell us. I think we probably have our assumptions, considering what this room has become.”

Akira had been trying very hard not to let any of those assumptions come to the front of his mind. But Futaba, completely unembarrassed, said, “Well, the first set of options involves holding hands, lap-sitting, and kissing, among other things, and the other tiers only get more intimate from there. So I hope you’re ready to see each other naked.”

Goro sighed, bowing his head. “I expected better of Sae-san. This is the last kind of game I would have assumed we would find here. But if it’s a choice between that or some kind of painful death in this room, I know which would be preferable. Right, Joker?”

“Right,” Akira said. It was fine. He could handle this. With Goro. That was part of why he’d chosen Goro to come with him, because he wanted a stronger bond with him. But this wasn’t what he’d thought was going to happen at all. This was…

“Okay, let me test something real quick, to make sure we know how the buttons work,” Futaba said. “Hold Crow’s hand for me?”

Akira looked over at Goro, who stuck out his hand with a resigned expression. Doing his best to keep up Joker’s unflappable facade, Akira sauntered over and slipped his hand into Goro’s, squeezing in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

In the control room, Futaba watched as the yellow button labeled _‘holding hands - 3 points’_ turned a sky-blue color, and the next tier of buttons turned yellow as an action was completed. “All right… Now let go of his hand.”

When Akira obeyed, the button stayed blue for a few moments, then turned yellow again. She looked over their options, humming thoughtfully. “Okay, so now hold his hand and touch his face at the same time.”

Taking Goro’s hand was simpler the second time, but then he hesitated. Goro raised an eyebrow above his mask. “Is something wrong? I’m not going to bite you, Joker, and Oracle needs to finish whatever she’s testing so we can get on with this.”

“Just making sure. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable by just reaching for your face without permission.” Akira cupped his cheek, instinctively running his thumb along his cheekbone beneath the red mask. Goro didn’t respond, but Akira could have sworn he felt the other boy lean into it, just a little.

Futaba, meanwhile, watched as both buttons turned blue at the same time. “Okay, so if this works like I think it does… Three points for hand-holding and three for face-touching, with a 2x multiplier for tier one...” She hit both buttons, to the sound of a surprised mumble from the other observing Thieves. The buttons disappeared completely, and a smaller display to the right of the screen came on, showing their total points. “Nice! Okay, so doing those two together got us a combo, and now we have twelve points.”

Akira stepped back from Goro, looking to the window again. “How many do we need to win?”

“...1120,” Futaba admitted, and Akira choked back the sudden nauseous feeling in his stomach as she continued, “I’m pretty sure it’s doable! But we’re going to have to get through a lot of these options…”

“It makes sense,” Goro said. “Every game we have played so far has been rigged in some way. This one is rigged to give the house a show. Send in your proxies and watch them perform for you and the house’s pleasure.”

“We’ve been paying attention to the screen and the window,” Yusuke said suddenly, “but look. This room has changed as well.”

A wall had slid away, revealing a sitting area with couches and armchairs, and a very large screen showing a closer view of the two Thieves in the observation room. Every so often it changed angles, and Makoto shook her head. “This is disgusting. I can’t believe something like this is in my sister’s Palace.”

Ryuji stepped up beside Futaba, looking over the screen worriedly. “Joker, are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“We don’t really have a choice, Skull.” Akira said. He flashed them a smile. “I’ll be fine. Crow, are you good?”

“As you said, we don’t have a choice,” Goro replied. “Oracle, if you could read off the current options?”

They both listened quietly as she listed off the ones that were unlocked. Makoto stepped up as well, looking over the point totals. “It would probably be best to do as many combos as you can, so you can accumulate points faster. I think it’s limited to two actions in a combo, though, so you can’t abuse the multiplier.”

“We should get started, then.” Akira shoved down his nerves and pushed Goro back to sit on the bed, then perched on his lap and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Twelve more points?”

“Fourteen, actually,” Futaba said. “Nice. You’d have gotten more points if you were straddling him, though.”

“I’m working up to that,” Akira said. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that this was the boy he had a crush on and not one of his other friends. Maybe this would be less mortifying if he hadn’t already thought about kissing Goro.

“And why do you think you’re going to be the one in charge of this?” Goro hummed. One arm slid low around Akira’s back, and he suppressed a shiver as Goro’s hand came to rest on his thigh, thankful that his mask hid most of the flush on his face.

“I’m the leader,” Akira said flippantly. Before he could think too hard about it, he got up, shifting so he could straddle Goro instead. “That’s my job: to lead. Right?”

“Oh, sure. Leading. Is that what you’re doing?” Goro grabbed his hips to pull him closer. “I suppose you’d better kiss me, then, before I get tired of waiting and do it myself.”

Ryuji leaned over to look at the screen. “So, uh, why isn’t ‘pillow talk’ lighting up?”

“Probably because they’re just snarking at each other,” Ann said. “Pillow talk is supposed to be soft. It’s just like ‘groping’ isn’t lighting up because Crow’s hands aren’t close enough to his ass for it to count.”

Makoto coughed. “We should probably just...let them go, and only prompt them if they don’t know what to do next.”

Down in the observation room, Akira reached up and lifted Goro’s mask off, setting it aside before leaning in. He’d kissed a few people back in his hometown, mostly as dares or parts of games, so he hoped Goro couldn’t tell how inexperienced he was. But then he felt Goro smile against his lips, and mumble, “The house wants a show, right? Surely you can do better than that.”

It was _immediately_ obvious that Goro knew how to kiss. Akira shut his eyes as Joker’s mask was gently pulled from his face, and then Goro was tilting his head to better align their mouths, parting his lips and Akira’s with a press of tongue. Akira kissed back as best he could, but couldn’t hide a surprised whimper as Goro’s hands settled firmly on his ass and squeezed.

Makoto dragged her eyes away from watching. “We should be doing the math to see what will give us the most points,” she said. 

For a minute there was no response; Futaba, Ann, and Yusuke were watching the TV with the close-up and making no effort to hide their staring, while Ryuji was watching _them_ incredulously. He came over to where Makoto was staring at the buttons, trying to multiply in her head, and asked, “So we can only hit two at once?”

“Right,” Makoto said. “Which, we’ve got three lit up right now, so there are a few possibilities.”

“What’s that one?” Ryuji pointed at one in the far column with a huge “7” on it.

Makoto checked the small print. “Bonus points because Joker is blushing like a tomato, as far as I can tell. Plus five? But we have to decide which other ones to hit before those two stop making out.” She was clearly frazzled, hovering indecisively over the buttons as the third tier lit up.

Ryuji shrugged. “Don’t we keep the highest one for later, so we can get a bigger...uh...multiplier? I’m sure there’s gonna be more...groping. Eventually.” He was turning red under his mask as well.

“...I should know that. I should.” Makoto hit the other two buttons, plus the bonus, and their score increased. “Oracle, get over here, I am _not_ doing this by myself.”

Akira pulled away from Goro to breathe, shuddering as Goro nuzzled against his cheek. “You’re so red, Joker. Is something wrong?”

“Of course not.” Akira climbed from Goro’s lap, bracing a hand on his hip. “Just thinking we should get this moving.” He lifted his other hand to his mouth, tugging one red glove off with his teeth. “Don’t you agree?”

Futaba grabbed the microphone. “There’s points if you rip a piece of clothing. And you should dirty talk him while you’re stripping so we can get the multiplier!”

“That’s what I’m _doing_ ,” Akira huffed. “Yelling at me isn’t helping!” He stripped off his other glove and looked back at Goro, who was trying to hold back a smile. “Stop making that face. I’m trying to focus.”

“By all means, don’t let me distract you from putting on a show,” Goro said primly. “I’m looking forward to seeing what I have to work with.”

Akira tried to ignore the mix of anxiety and anticipation that filled his stomach at how easily Goro could say something like that. “Didn’t we already establish that I’m the leader, Crow?” He shrugged his coat off, revealing bare shoulders, then braced one knee on the bed beside Goro and started unbuttoning his vest. “I want to see you stretched out under me, begging for more.”

“You’ll have to work for that, I’m afraid,” Goro said. He reached up to bat Akira’s hands aside, undoing the rest of the buttons himself, and Akira swallowed hard and reached for Goro’s jacket instead with a smile as cocky as he could manage.

“Fine, then. Let’s start by getting us on an even playing field.” He was expecting resistance from Goro, but the other boy let Akira rid him of his jacket without complaint, more focused on getting Akira’s vest undone.

“Joker’s so suave…” Ann said wistfully as the vest was tossed aside and they all got a great view of their leader’s toned back.

Ryuji nodded. “Yeah. I hate to say it, but I’m glad it’s him and not me. I’d have freaked out. I like you guys, but this is way beyond that.”

“Crow is tolerating this surprisingly well, especially in the face of Joker’s charms,” Yusuke commented. “I wish I had my sketchbook.”

Akira ended up back in Goro’s lap, their mouths locked once again as his hands found their way into Goro’s hair and tugged gently. Goro responded by dragging his nails down Akira’s back, leaving red lines on his skin, and grinding up against him. It made Akira falter for a second as he processed that Goro was hard, but then he started grinding back, pulling away just enough to get his mouth on Goro’s neck instead and bite down.

“ _Ow_ , Joker. Watch how hard you’re doing that,” Goro huffed, groping his ass in retaliation. Akira apologized by swiping his tongue over the bite mark, but sat back sharply when he felt Goro’s hands shift to the front of his pants instead. Goro stopped, about to undo the first button of his fly, and asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” Akira assured him quickly.

No one else saw him flinch, distracted by either the overall situation or the screen of buttons. Futaba had taken back over, adding up the combos to get as many points out of the many lit buttons as possible. They were almost to two-hundred, but there was still a ways to go, and the fourth tier that had unlocked was...interesting, to put it mildly.

She looked up when Akira yelped, almost drowning out the sound of ripping fabric. Goro was smiling innocently, handfuls of the fabric of Akira’s pants in each hand, and a sizeable tear was ripped across the crotch and starting down one leg. “Oops,” he said. “Oracle did say there were points for ripping a piece of clothing.”

Futaba tried not to smile and entered another combo, while Akira made an offended noise. “My _pants_ , though? We couldn’t have ripped something less vital for when we have to get dressed again, like your undershirt?”

Goro dumped him from his lap onto the bed and tugged off what was left of his pants. After that, he pulled his undershirt over his head, leaving both of them bare from the waist up. They’d kicked their shoes off sometime in the midst of making out, and Goro grinned. “We can just jump to the entrance from here with the nav, right? I don’t think anyone will notice your underwear. Although, I’m a bit amused that the metaverse decided they should match your gloves. And the color of your face.”

“Shut up,” Akira growled. He pushed himself upright and looked up at the window. His underwear was all he had left now, and his friends weren’t exactly being subtle about their staring. “Oracle, how many tiers do we have unlocked?”

“Four,” she chirped. “And I’m pretty sure tier five is actual sex, once that unlocks.”

“Great. So what have we got that gives the most points?”

“...sounding.”

Akira didn’t know what that was, but based on the face Goro made, he was pretty sure that he didn’t want to. Goro called up to the window, “Perhaps let’s save that for if we absolutely do not have enough points. What are our other tier four options?”

“Don’t forget there’s stuff left in tier 3,” Futaba reminded him. “Handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play… But okay, if you want the big stuff, greatest to least is fingering, rimming, and restraints.”

“Fingering should wait, since we have many things to do before we get to the main event,” Goro said. “Rimming seems easy enough, though.”

That, Akira did know what it was, and he balked instinctively before he was aware he was doing it. “ _That’s_ the one you pick? Really?”

“It’s 99 points if you sixty-nine and do a blowjob at the same time,” Futaba pointed out helpfully.

“Exactly,” Goro said. “We have to get to 1120 somehow. If you don’t want to do that part, I will, but don’t tell me you’re embarrassed _now_.”

“Are you _not??_ ” Akira said incredulously. The longer they talked, the more awkward it was to sit there basically naked when Goro still had pants on. And unfair.

Goro shook his head. “I’m choosing to worry about that particular emotion later, when our survival doesn’t depend on whether you’re going to let me eat you out or not. If it’s hygiene you’re worried about, I’m fairly certain that the cognition of this place has ensured that we’re both clean. Didn’t you notice that when we entered this room, neither of us were sweaty anymore, despite running through the House of Darkness prior to this? I’m sure that extends to...other things. We’re putting on a show, after all. The viewers want to be titillated, not worry about cleanliness.”

“That’s…” Convenient, but that wasn’t what he actually wanted to say. ‘Not the point’ was probably more accurate. Instead, feeling petty, he sniped, “You’re pretty calm about having to put on a sex show.”

“Practice makes perfect,” Goro muttered, and Akira stared at him.

“What?”

Goro scowled. “I’ve put on a lot of shows for others in my life. What about you, Joker? You’re awfully hesitant for someone that’s such a flirt.”

It was the exact moment that he needed to make a clever quip or a teasing remark. But Akira felt his tongue glue itself to the roof of his mouth, the words caught in his throat, and slowly he watched realization fill Goro’s eyes. “...stop judging me,” he managed, finally, too late. “I can hear you thinking.”

“What the _fuck_ ,” Goro said quietly. He didn’t sound angry, just shocked. The rest of the Thieves were equally surprised, if Ann’s muffled yelp of “Joker’s a _virgin???_ ” was anything to go off of.

“It’s not important!” Akira insisted, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at any of them. He knew how he came off. Goro had teased him for being a ‘fountain of flirtatious comments’ once. He’d just...never gone any farther. Letting someone that close… That was nerve-wracking, and out of the question when Morgana lived with him.

In the control room, the Thieves were muttering among themselves.

“But he’s always so confident,” Makoto said.

“And he flirts with like, everyone,” Ryuji huffed. “Even _Crow_. He makes it look easy.”

“It’s not nice to assume,” Futaba said. She looked down at the button that had lit up on the bottom corner of the screen, which just showed triple-cherries and some small print that said ‘bonus multiplier to current score’. “So, uh, I think there’s a button here for getting your cherry popped…”

“Of course there is,” Akira muttered.

Ann walked over to jab Futaba in the arm. “Wait, why don’t you look surprised at all? Did you know?”

“Of course I knew,” Futaba said carelessly. “I've been through all your phones. I know what kind of porn you watch. That combined with the fact that Joker’s been googling ‘does anal sex actually hurt?’ is pretty solid evidence.”

“You _what_ ,” Makoto screeched. In the observation room, Akira felt like he was about to scream.

Futaba just shrugged. “Panther watches a shitton of lesbian porn. Fox somehow found a whole pornhub channel where they paint on naked people. It’s not a big deal.”

_“Oracle!”_ Ann wailed. Yusuke looked unfazed.

Ryuji raised his hand. “What does Queen watch?”

“Answer that and you’re both dead,” Makoto said sharply.

“If we could get back on topic…” Goro began. “The only person whose preferences are relevant right now would be Joker’s. Correct?”

Futaba hummed. “Joker’s boring. He watches a bunch of soft stuff. The occasional erotic massage or shibari video. I think he’s into bondage and cuddles.”

Akira was sure he was about to explode from embarrassment as his navigator threw him directly under the bus. He could feel how red his face was. He was going to combust into blue fire, burn into ashes, and leave Goro stuck in this room forever. “Oracle, when we get out of here…”

“Payback for leaving me at the electronics store the other day.”

“You were _fine_.”

“You didn’t know it would be fine when you walked off!”

“It was thirty seconds!”

“Can we please get the rest of this over with?!” Ann yelled. “You can finish killing each other at home!”

“Right,” Goro said. “And from here on, I’m taking charge. Oracle, focus on the screen, please.”

“Wait, wait,” Akira said, as Goro turned to face him and scooted closer. “You can’t just…”

“I’m the one with more experience,” Goro said firmly. “And you asked me in here because you trust me, yes? So let me take the lead so that we can get out of here.”

There wasn’t a lot he could say to argue that. In the absence of an objection, Goro laid a hand on the center of his chest, and Akira let himself be pushed down to the bed, thoughts still running in circles as he processed what was happening. He’d _known_ as soon as the game was revealed what he would have to do, but subconsciously he’d been hoping that he could get through it without anyone realizing he didn’t have any actual experience. He was the leader. He couldn’t come off as weak or fumbling. And now they knew, they all knew, and they probably thought he was ridiculous for not doing _anything_ with another person before. Goro didn’t even know that technically he’d taken Akira’s first serious kiss.

He just had to get through the rest of it without embarrassing himself any further. But that was going to be difficult when Goro’s mouth on his collarbones was enough to make him squirm. Goro was kissing down his neck and chest, his mouth finding a nipple at the same moment that his hand slipped into Akira’s underwear and circled his cock. Akira bit down hard on his lip to muffle a desperate moan. He’d never been touched like that before. It took every fragment of his crumbling self-control not to grind up into Goro’s hand, and Goro peered up at him from beneath his bangs with a smile.

“You don’t have to stifle your voice,” he said, pumping his hand loosely. Akira made a broken sound, and Goro hummed approvingly. “You should enjoy this.”

“I just want to get out of here…” Akira said, trailing off as Goro ducked his head again to surround his other nipple with the heat of his mouth. It felt good, the suction, the gentle laps of Goro’s tongue against the stiff peak, the warm hand around his cock. But he didn’t want this. Not like this, not here, not with his friends able to see him falling to pieces. He just wanted to get it over with.

He found the willpower to shove Goro back. “Stop it. I don’t need you to take it easy on me. What was the thing that was going to give us a ton of points? Sixty-nine? Fine, let’s just do it.”

Goro frowned, looking him over like he’d just offered up a riddle instead of the chance to eat him out. “I wasn’t taking it easy. Those things get us points as well,” he said. “Are you sure, though? The idea of rimming seemed distasteful to you before…”

“It’s fine. I can handle it,” Akira insisted.

“...stubborn.” Goro sighed, getting up and stripping off both pants and underwear in one go. Akira was suddenly confronted with a completely bare detective prince crawling back onto the bed towards him, and he struggled to keep the anxiety from his face as Goro rearranged the pillows and flopped onto his back. “Come here, then, if you’re going to insist on this. You can be on top, so you can pull away if you have to.”

Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Akira by the leg and hauled him close, practically manhandling him into position. Akira stared at Goro’s cock, inches from his face, and chose annoyance over anxiety. “I’m not going to need to pull away. I told you not to take it easy on me.”

“It’s not _taking it easy_ , it’s… You know what, never mind. Fine.” Goro pulled down his underwear from behind, delivering a sharp swat to his ass. “Lift your knees so I can get these off.”

Akira obeyed, trying very hard not to think about the fact that the boy he liked was looking at his ass. Was going to put his mouth on his ass. Instead, he needed to focus on giving the best blowjob Goro had ever received. He might be a virgin, but that didn’t mean he had no idea what he was doing, and he couldn’t stand the thought of Goro treating him like something fragile. It couldn’t be _that_ much different from trying to deep-throat a toy, right?

A few seconds were enough to inform him that no, it was very different from a toy. Silicone wasn’t the same as having warm skin against his lips. Silicone didn’t smell like Goro, didn’t twitch in his mouth when he ran his tongue over the tip. He focused on keeping his teeth off of the length, hoping that the bitten-off moan he heard meant he was doing a good job. But when he pulled off to catch his breath, he shuddered as he felt Goro kneading his cheeks before leaning in to lap directly over his exposed hole.

It shouldn’t have felt that good. He’d used fingers on himself before, but something like this, he hadn’t thought it was something people really did outside of porn. But the warmth and pressure of Goro’s tongue felt amazing against nerves that were more sensitive than he’d realized, and it was all he could do to rest his head on Goro’s hip and mewl pathetically. He did his best to keep mouthing at Goro’s cock, but between one of Goro’s hands holding him spread open and the other petting his inner thigh, it was hard to focus.

He wanted to enjoy this. He did. Goro’s hands on him had been occupying his thoughts since August. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Of being judged. Of his friends thinking he was pathetic. He couldn’t just lay here and let someone have their way with him, especially when that someone was the detective who had blackmailed his way onto the team and was probably a murderer. What would that look like? So despite how nice it was to have Goro’s tongue running along his perineum, he forced himself to pull away with one last lick against Goro’s cock and roll to the side so he could sit up.

“Are you all right?” Goro asked. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, wine-red eyes concerned, and Akira wanted to believe the concern was genuine, but couldn’t be sure.

“It’s fine, I’m fine, I just… We need to keep going. Points,” Akira said quickly. He looked up at the window. “Oracle, how many points do we have?”

She checked the total. It was just her at the screen, now. The others had gravitated towards the TV, even Makoto and Ryuji, the hypocrites. She was just as curious about Joker’s reactions to everything, too, but unlike some other people, _she_ had a job to do. “We’re at 476,” she said. “Tier 5 activated and it’s definitely just sex. Tier 6 also activated, but that one doesn’t have a multiplier. It looks like just an extra fifty points per action. But some of them are mutually exclusive.”

“Mutually exclusive?” Goro asked.

“Well, you can’t do a creampie and a pearl necklace at the same time, generally,” Futaba said flatly. “If you were desperate and needed fifty more points I guess you could wait for someone to recover and go again.”

Akira made a face. He’d really rather not be here any longer than necessary. While Goro asked questions about the other things in Tier 6 – choking? overstimulation?? – Akira rummaged through the side table next to the bed. There was lube, of course. Padded handcuffs. Toys? Which didn’t really make sense, unless there were secret bonus points for using them. Or maybe the board was different depending on who entered the room. If he’d come in with someone other than Goro, maybe there would have been buttons for vibrators or one of the other things in the drawer.

He grabbed the lube, turning back to Goro. “Look, that other button is going to give up some kind of ridiculous multiplier, I’m sure. Let’s just do this and get it over with, and then we can hit the button and get out of here.”

“We don’t know what kind of multiplier it will be,” Goro objected. “It would make more sense to gain more points before we set it off.”

“I just want to finish this,” Akira insisted. “If it’s not enough… If it’s not enough, we can do more, but if it _is_ , then we’re done!”

Goro looked ready to argue, but ultimately just frowned, his disapproval clear. “Whatever you say, _Leader_. How shall we proceed?”

Akira swallowed the lump in his throat and shifted forward, pushing Goro back onto his back and opening the lube. Goro didn’t seem to realize what his intentions were until Akira had slicked his cock and then moved to straddle him again. Then his eyes widened. “Wait, don’t jus...nnnhg!”

Akira ignored him, sinking down slowly. It hurt, but he tried to breathe through it. This needed to be over. He could handle pain. He’d taken enough wounds in Palaces. And he wasn’t going to let Goro baby him.

But Goro was still objecting. “You’re going too fast; you’re going to tear something and hurt yourself.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Akira gritted out, eyes shut, trying to ignore the way they were starting to tear up from the sting. But Goro reached up and grabbed him, yanking him down against his chest so that he would slip out of him. He tried to pull away, but Goro just wrapped his arms solidly around him, half-pinning his arms and making it impossible to escape.

“Moron,” Goro said. “That was hurting me, too. And you’re not going to be able to come if you’re in pain, and we will fail this. Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I wasn’t in pain,” Akira lied. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t lay here and let Goro take him apart in front of his friends. But Goro made an irritated sound, and in one motion flipped him onto his back and stretched to reach the drawer. He rummaged until he reemerged with the padded cuffs, and Akira’s eyes went wide. There was no time to scurry away, though; Goro grabbed him and resisted every attempt to flail away from the cuffs clicking snugly around his wrists. Akira was left to stare helplessly as Goro pinned his hips down.

“Right,” Goro said briskly. “Oracle, fingering is still on the board, right?”

Futaba fumbled for a second. “Yeah, you haven’t done that yet.”

“Good. This idiot didn’t tear anything, so we can still salvage this, and get points from the step he skipped.”

Akira spluttered. “You… Just get this over with!”

“No.” Goro pushed his legs open, sitting on one to hold it down and keeping the other out of the way. “Too late. You wouldn’t listen to me, and now I’m going to make sure that you remember this for the right reasons. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to put someone else through that.”

He’d been trying to get his hands at the right angle to fiddle with the cuffs, but that made him freeze. “...someone else?” he mumbled.

There was dead silence. Even Futaba didn’t have anything to say, though Akira had a feeling she was mentally comparing them to her doujins. There was really only one explanation for the comment, and Akira returned to trying to squirm away. “No, I… Don’t do this. You don’t have to put yourself through this…”

Goro hummed, slicking his fingers and reaching down to rub against his entrance, massaging sensitive muscles. “This isn’t exactly a hardship when I’ve wanted to fuck you since August, Joker,” he said calmly. “You need to relax if we’re going to get through this. Stop trying to get out of the cuffs and take a deep breath. And be glad someone is willing to be kind to you. They weren’t to me.”

“You wanted to—” But Akira’s words choked off in a groan as Goro’s finger slipped inside. Just one didn’t hurt, but the pressure was strange when it wasn’t his own, especially when Goro thrust it gently in and out.

“No one is judging you,” Goro murmured. “Close your eyes and focus on me and how you feel. That’s the only important thing here.” He added another finger, his strokes slow and smooth. “Does it still hurt?”

“It didn’t hurt in the first place,” Akira insisted, but his eyes were shut, and he’d stopped struggling with the cuffs.

“Still stubborn,” Goro said, and there was something fond in his voice. “Lying to me isn’t going to make me go faster.” He pressed his mouth to Akira’s inner thigh, leaving hickies along the length of sensitive skin. Akira whined at the sensation. Combined with Goro’s fingers carefully stretching him out, he felt like he couldn’t think through all the feelings bombarding him at once. Embarrassment was still there, and shame, but they were slowly being buried under the need for Goro to touch him more. By the time Goro added a third finger, mouthing at the head of his cock just enough to leave him teetering on the edge, he could feel himself tearing up. “Goro, Goro, please…”

“Shh, just another moment,” Goro hushed, curling his fingers to swipe delicately over Akira’s prostate. Akira moaned, thrashing against the hold on him, and Goro kissed his knee and pulled away before he could come. “You’re doing fine. Keep your legs open for me.”

Akira watched hazily as he re-slicked his cock, then leaned over him. One hand positioned himself against Akira’s prepped entrance, the other curled around the back of his neck, drawing him up into a kiss as Goro pushed slowly inside. He couldn’t help but moan into Goro’s mouth, because amazingly, it didn’t hurt. The stinging pain from before had been replaced with a pleasurable ache. He just felt so full, and so hot, and he wrapped his legs around Goro’s hips as best he could, wanting to beg him for more, but scared he would stop again if he deemed it too fast.

When Goro broke the kiss to brace his hand on the bed, Akira took advantage to loop his bound hands around his shoulders, keeping him close as he started moving. It felt so good to have Goro inside him. It should have hurt; he didn’t understand how it had gone from painful to not hurting at all. Now all he could do was moan, fingers tangling in Goro’s hair as the detective scattered hickies over his neck and pressed soft lips to his ear to murmur filthy things into it.

“You look so good, you feel so hot inside… It’s so good, having you wrapped around my cock like this. I’ve wanted you for so long… Although, next time it should be one of our beds, instead of a Palace, hm?”

Akira’s fuzzy brain could barely believe that Goro wanted _him_. Wanted to do this again. As he shifted enough to brush Akira’s prostate with his thrusts, Akira clung tighter. “Anything, anything, Goro, you can have me again, I need… I need…!”

“I’m here,” Goro replied, skimming his mouth over Akira’s jaw as his pace grew more uneven. “I’ll give you what you need.”

His hand curled around Akira, stroking firmly. It was so hot, so much sensation, Akira felt tears come to his eyes. He sobbed with pleasure, trying to hide his face in Goro’s shoulder. Everything wound tighter and tighter, and he shut his eyes, overwhelmed. When he came, stars flashed behind his eyelids, and it was harder than he’d ever come in his life. 

Goro kept going, rocking against tender nerves, and Akira whined helplessly. It was so much in too short a time. A few thrusts later, when Goro came, it was finally too much. Akira tried to open his eyes, tried to focus, but after another moment, consciousness slipped away.

In the observation room, Futaba hit three more buttons, then the cherry button. When it was pressed, their score multiplied by ten.

They’d passed the high score.

But what now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there was a chart and far too much math put into this. Yes, once I'd done all the math and realized that particular high score fit, I _had to_. XD
> 
> Next chapter: Goro's POV of the aftermath


	2. Chapter 2

In a twisted way, Goro was _glad_ for how the game had turned out.

Yes, it was upsetting to be forced to perform in front of the other Phantom Thieves, but at least it was a relatively familiar form of upset. He didn’t keep track of nights spent with sketchy politicians and authority figures, putting on a smile and a show and pretending he didn’t want to strangle them. The Thieves, at least, seemed appropriately mortified by the indecency of the game...except for Futaba, but he could deal with one desensitized teenage girl as long as she didn’t start mocking him.

And regardless of his feelings about having an audience, he was glad that it had been him and not one of the others. Not only would they have likely failed...watching someone else take Akira’s first time would have been intolerable.

Goro propped Akira’s feet up on an extra pillow. You were supposed to elevate them when someone passed out, though he didn’t know if that still applied when they were unconscious from pleasure. Once that was done, he undid the cuffs Akira was still wearing. Softly, one hand smoothed the thief’s hair back from his forehead, and Goro looked up at the window. “Oracle, how many points do we have?”

“Well…” she said, and there was the faint sound of the door unlocking. “We _had_ 1033\. And the cherry button multiplied that by ten. So, uh, we’re more than good.”

“So if neither of us had been a virgin, we’d have needed ninety more points to reach 1120…” Goro mused. “And that was doable?”

“Yeah, if you were willing to do two more things from Tier 6,” Futaba said. “Which… I’m glad we didn’t have to watch you choke him.”

Goro looked down at Akira. “...I am as well.”

Makoto spoke up then, sounding frazzled. “The door’s open; you should get dressed and get out of there. Do you need help with Joker?”

“I’ve got it.” He’d wrecked Akira’s pants, so there wasn’t much to be done there. He redressed himself, but didn’t bother rebuttoning his jacket, and slipped Akira’s underwear back on. Akira stirred, but didn’t object, and Goro wrapped him in his discarded Joker coat and carried him back up to the control room. “We have enough chips for the next floor?”

Ann nodded. “Y-Yeah. The game paid out just like it was supposed to,” she said, fidgeting.

All of the Thieves looked uncomfortable and twitchy, and Goro did his best to keep a straight face as he said, “We should head out for the day. I’m sure you all need to go home and take care of yourselves.” He almost laughed when Ryuji made a face, and Makoto was turning so red. Incredible. “I’ll look after Joker for tonight. I...have some experience in dealing with this sort of thing, if he’s in any pain.”

No one tried to suggest anything else, so together the Thieves walked back to the lobby, their leader half-conscious in Crow’s arms. Haru and Morgana were waiting, and both jumped to their feet when they saw the state he was in.

“J-Joker?” Morgana said worriedly, standing on the bench to try to see. “What’s wrong, what did you do to him?”

“What _didn’t_ he do to him?” Ryuji muttered.

Goro shook his head. “He’s fine, Mona. Our stubborn leader overexerted himself a bit. I’m going to watch him this evening.”

“B-But…”

“You can come home with me, Mona-chan.” Haru patted him on the head, but her gaze on Goro was like steel. “He’ll make sure Joker is fine.”

There was a distinctly implied _‘or else’_ in the statement.

Once they’d double-checked their chip total, they headed for the elevator so they could leave, but found Shadow Sae blocking the way, looking put-out.

_“I suppose I can’t be but so disappointed. After all, who could have predicted that the infamous leader of the Phantom Thieves was a virgin? I didn’t expect him to be all flash and no substance. But that was a hell of a show. Thankfully he didn’t admit that sooner.”_

“What is that supposed to mean?” Yusuke asked coldly. Most of the group instinctively moved to be between the shadow and their leader, just in case.

Futaba worked it out first. “Oh…” she said, very quietly. “I mean, we still wouldn’t have known the multiplier, but if we’d known he was a virgin from the beginning and been willing to gamble, we could have won a lot sooner. I don’t think anyone would have even had to strip. The button lit up as soon as he admitted he was a virgin; a handjob probably would have been enough to count as losing his virginity.”

_“Exactly!”_ Shadow Sae said. _“Thankfully, he’s a stubborn idiot.”_

“Sis!” Makoto burst out. “How could you do this to them? Why would you even have something so… so… _obscene_ in your Palace?!”

_“Oh, Makoto…”_ Shadow Sae sighed. _“Still so naive. This is the high-limit floor. You have to take a big risk if you want to get ahead. Do you really think you can succeed if you don’t best the games I’ve already won?”_

“W-What?” Haru stammered, eyes wide, and the others had equally shocked reactions. Makoto looked like she was about to explode.

_“That’s how it goes. Luck and skill only get you so far. You play the game to get ahead. Don’t worry, you’ll have to do the same one day. Consider this practice.”_

“That’s disgusting, saying something like that to your own sister…” Goro growled.

Shadow Sae raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. _“Don’t play stupid, Detective Prince,”_ she taunted. _“Didn’t you admit that the same thing happened to you? That’s how it works. People use you, until you’re powerful enough that they can’t.”_

Goro unconsciously held Akira tighter. “But you don’t inflict that on others! That’s why I didn’t… You’ve let yourself become just as corrupt as they are!”

Shadow Sae scoffed dismissively. _“I didn’t take you for an idealist. I worked hard to get to where I am. Why should others have it any easier?”_

“Because you should be trying to make things better, not hurt more people,” Ann snarled.

“And even I have my limits to being a cynic,” Goro said.

_“Very well. We’ll see how you handle the manager’s floor, then. Your luck won’t hold out forever.”_ With that parting comment, the shadow left them. Makoto was practically vibrating with wordless rage, and Haru walked over to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s go home.”

They were ignored by cognitions and shadows alike as they made their way back to the entrance to return to the real world. Goro noted with relief that Akira’s school uniform was undamaged. He’d regained consciousness at some point, his eyes half-lidded under the streetlights, but he still seemed out of it. He hadn’t tried to move or speak, just curled closer into Goro’s arms. It was obvious he was at least slightly traumatized by how things had gone, so Goro just made sure he was secure. He could talk when he was ready.

“So, Crow,” Futaba said, hand on her hip. “I know this was a terrible experience and stuff, but it would also be a _really great_ plot for a visual novel, so at some point I want permission to—”

“That’s something to worry about later, Futaba-chan,” Goro said, pasting on a smile. “Right now there are more pressing concerns.” Like the fact that she apparently had bugs on the Thieves’ phones. “I need to look after Akira. Goodnight, everyone. I will update you later.”

As he walked away, he could hear Makoto berating Futaba for even asking that, and Ryuji loudly expressing concern for them just letting him walk away with Akira. He ignored them. It was early evening; Leblanc was probably locked, and even if it wasn’t, he wasn’t sure he wanted to carry Akira past Sojiro and subject himself to potentially awkward questions about what happened. Plus, his apartment was closer. So he chose the train that would take them to his stop, finding a seat and brushing people off with a cursory apology for his ‘sick friend’. With Akira still a little flushed and obviously exhausted, it was a simple lie.

He couldn’t say he was upset about having to carry a dazed Akira back to his home. Especially if that meant he might get the opportunity to hold him. He’d certainly considered similar scenarios, though never with that sort of beginning. In his fantasies, Akira always accepted the invitation, letting Goro sweep him off his feet. It was silly, of course, but now he had something almost like that.

Akira was barely awake by the time they reached his apartment, so Goro carried him to his room, gently stripped off his school uniform, and got a washcloth from the bathroom. Leaving the metaverse hadn’t changed the fact that they had gotten sweaty, or that Akira still had cum inside of him. He whimpered when Goro nudged his legs open to clean him up, but Goro just worked quickly and efficiently, then wrestled Akira into a spare pair of pajamas and tucked him into bed.

He needed a shower. And a minute to think.

She couldn’t possibly have bugged his phone. She’d touched it for less than a minute, just once. And he assumed that if she had knowledge of his browsing habits, she’d have been all-too-eager to embarrass him specifically. The important thing was that, if there was a bug, she was unable to listen to his phone calls. He’d have to jokingly ask Akira in the morning if that was a possibility, and avoid making any important calls until he got a new phone. He was fairly certain he’d never mentioned anything specific during any of his recent calls anyway. And Akira wouldn’t have dragged him alone into a trust-exercise game if he knew about the plan, would he?

Or maybe he would. Akira had a tendency to be stupid like that, if his habit of collecting troubled strays was any indication.

Clean and with at least one concrete thing he needed to do in the morning, Goro returned to his room, hesitating for only a moment before climbing into bed beside Akira. It had been a long infiltration. And he needed to be here in case Akira woke up. There was no harm in going to bed early.

When was the last time he had gone to bed before midnight?

Despite his thoughts constantly drifting to the boy peacefully curled up on the other side of his bed, Goro did manage to fall asleep for a while. Only to be woken in the early hours of the morning by Akira jerking awake and flailing as he got himself tangled in the sheets. Goro tried to grab his arm to hold him still, but he jerked away with a yelp, so Goro grabbed the sheet instead and yanked it loose. Free, Akira scooted as close to the edge as he could, eyes wide with panic.

“Where— What happe—” He looked down at himself. “M-My clothes?”

Goro held up his hands. “You’re in my apartment. It was closer than Yongen,” he explained calmly. “I cleaned you up and put you in a pair of my pajamas.”

Akira shivered, reaching up to rub under his ear in a nervous movement. “W-We got out of the Palace?”

“Yes. Everyone made it out, and we have enough chips to get to the next floor. We’re safe.”

He watched Akira pull his legs in, arms wrapping around them until he was curled up in a ball, mumbling to himself. “Slept with you in front of my friends… Admitted to being a virgin in front of my friends... Begged for your cock... In front of my friends...!” He sounded near-hysterical, and Goro swallowed hard.

“It’s okay. If you need to yell… or cry… It’s okay. No one else is here. No one is touching you. No one is judging you.” Part of him wanted to snap at Akira that this was nothing, he was being ridiculous. The other part just wanted to hold him. He knew what it was like. No one had been there for him; he’d put himself back together on his own and moved on. But he could be there for Akira. It wouldn’t matter in a week, but it could help right now.

“I’m not mad at you…” Akira said, still shivering. “I just, I didn’t want…”

Goro looked away. “I’m sorry… I know you probably didn’t want me to be the one that—”

“I didn’t want it like that!” Akira interrupted. “I wanted here! Or Leblanc… No audience, just us…”

That brought Goro’s thoughts to a screeching halt. He hadn’t dared think that Akira actually wanted _him_. It had been the situation that shoved them together, fulfilling a fantasy of Goro’s and putting Akira through a terrible exhibitionistic experience. Or so he’d thought. “Y-You wanted me?”

“...since August,” Akira admitted quietly. “Just like you, apparently.”

Reeling, Goro just held out an arm, and Akira slowly crawled over and curled up against him. They could have been doing this since _August_ if either of them had bothered to say anything. Now it was too late. The plan was reaching fruition. There was no time left. “Akira… I’m sorry things turned out like this.” He wasn’t sure how much he was apologizing for.

“It’s okay,” Akira said. “It’s not your fault.”

“I ignored your objections until you stopped objecting. Regardless of whether it was something you wanted, you clearly were uncomfortable with the situation. I essentially raped you in front of your friends,” Goro said flatly. All of this was too much. He should have been more thorough about scouting the Casino’s games before putting this into motion. Then maybe this wouldn’t be happening.

“Th-That’s not…!” Akira stammered. “Don’t say that; that’s not what it was at all!” He thumped a fist against Goro’s chest, not hard enough to hurt, but enough that Goro got the point. “You didn’t hurt me. I think it would have been a lot worse if you hadn’t been there.”

Goro snorted. “You mean if you had to deal with one of your friends expecting you to take the lead? It would have been like watching a train wreck. Can you imagine if you’d decided to take _Morgana_ in there?”

He could feel the exact moment Akira realized the implications, as he shuddered and tucked his head against Goro’s neck. “We’d have died. Or maybe broken the board. Do you think Niijima-san really would have had options for a cat?”

“Futaba-chan presses ‘start game’ and the screen just displays ‘NO’ in massive letters before the door unlocks and forces us to pick someone else,” Goro said, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

That made Akira laugh, and Goro found himself relieved that his fear from when he’d woken up appeared to have faded. He’d have deserved it if Akira was afraid of his touch, after what had happened. Astonishingly, he’d gotten lucky. But then Akira squirmed, shuffling around until he could nestle more firmly against Goro and wrap an arm around his waist, and he asked against his shoulder, “You said...someone hurt you?”

He did his best not to react. “It was a long time ago, Akira. It’s not important. It was...shortly after I started gaining fame as the detective prince. I accepted a drink at a party that I shouldn’t have.”

Close enough. It was one of Shido’s filthy supporters, at an event he hosted in a fancy hotel. Goro had initially refused the champagne, but the man offering had made fun of him for having a ‘child’s palate’, and he’d taken it as a challenge. Most of what happened after that was a blur, but he’d woken up in one of the hotel rooms, his clothes scattered across the floor, and the disgusting man had spared him enough attention to tell him he’d ‘had a good time’ before leaving him there to collect himself.

“Someone at the TV station? Do you still have to see them?” Akira asked. “We could do something. Before… Before we disband. Go into Mementos and convince whoever it is to confess their crimes, without naming the victims…”

“It’s okay,” Goro assured him, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “He was eventually let go. I no longer have to deal with him. So enough about things that have already passed. Are you in any pain?” It was much easier to focus on Akira than on the memories of that night. He’d had experiences since then, but several of them were much the same, minus being drugged unconscious. Shido had certain expectations of Goro to keep his supporters happy. Thankfully that wasn’t something that occurred terribly often. But that first man…

He’d hunted down his shadow and driven him mad.

Akira sighed. “I’m a little sore, but that’s all. It’s not actual pain.” He snorted weakly. “Other than feeling like I can never look my friends in the eye again… I think that’s...something I’d like to do again? By ourselves. No audiences this time.”

Goro considered the memory of Akira flushed and squirming beneath him and nodded. “It was...nice.”

“Maybe after the Casino?” Akira asked softly. “I don’t want the Thieves disbanding to mean that I never see you again.”

Goro ignored the slight nausea inspired by the comment and smiled fondly. “I don’t either. Let’s see how things go from here, okay? But for now… It’s three in the morning, Akira, we should sleep.”

“Oh.” The thief had clearly forgotten what time it was. “Yeah…” He started to pull away, then hesitated. “Is this… Can I…?”

Goro shuffled down to a more comfortable position and drew Akira with him. “It’s okay. Stay here. And wake me if you have another nightmare.”

Akira settled in against his side, holding loosely to a handful of his shirt. “Thanks, Goro…”

It was impossible to deny that it stung, having Akira so trusting and close in his bed when there was a running countdown to the day Akira’s life ended. But he couldn’t risk causing suspicion now, and if that meant playing along, just for a little longer, he would do it. 

It took less time to fall asleep with Akira curled up against him, not that he would ever acknowledge that fact. But when he woke up, spooned against Akira’s back with an arm over his waist, it was...warm. Pleasant. And from the way Akira was shifting in his hold, it was clear that having Goro so close had given him much better dreams as well. His hips stuttered with little twitches, thighs rubbing together in tiny movements, obviously trying not to wake Goro. So when Goro pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, he froze, a single surprised sound slipping from his lips.

“Good morning,” Goro murmured against his skin.

“G-Good morning,” Akira managed. 

It was so satisfying to see him like this, flushed and nervous and uncertain. Akira’s inexperience shouldn’t have been so appealing, but it was, and Goro fought the urge to take advantage. The part of him that was Loki cried out to take what he wanted, to be rough with him. But the part of him that was Robin said to be good to him. Show him how amazing it could feel when done right. Because then he would come back. Then, they could indulge until time ran out.

Goro didn’t move other than to press another kiss to his beautifully exposed neck. “Want some help?”

Akira shivered, but after a moment, he nodded, and Goro slipped his hand beneath Akira’s borrowed shirt, feeling up his abs and chest until he could circle a nipple with his fingertips. Akira sighed and melted back against him, giving Goro access to more of his neck. “You’re so agreeable first thing in the morning,” Goro teased gently, dividing his touches equally between sensitive nipples to make up for only having one hand available.

“Feels good,” Akira said, his voice low and rough. “I had a nice dream…”

“Was it anything like this?” Goro asked. He rolled a nipple gently, and Akira let out a purring whine before he was able to speak again.

“I think you were...um...about to suck me off, but then I woke up…”

“Is that something you’d like?” He traced his way back down Akira’s stomach with tender touches, toying with the band of his sleep pants.

Akira shook his head against the pillows. “Next time… ‘m comfortable,” he slurred quietly.

Goro slipped his hand beneath the fabric. “Next time, then.” There were enough days between now and the final heist. And the idea of watching Akira fall apart from each new pleasure Goro could show him was delicious. And now these experiences could be just for Goro. No one else would get to know what Akira looked like getting his first blowjob. That wasn’t usually the right order of things, getting rimmed before ever experiencing a blowjob, but so be it.

For now, he kept his strokes firm and his grip snug, letting Akira rock his hips into his fist. His lips found the soft place beneath Akira’s ear, working to leave a fresh mark alongside the ones already decorating his skin. He couldn’t help but grind a little against Akira’s ass, eager to get off as well even if he didn’t want to actually fuck him again right now.

Akira shuddered, and then with great effort, pulled Goro’s hand out of his pants. Goro got ready to apologize, convinced he’d done something Akira didn’t like, but the thief scrambled on top of him, rocking their hips together in clumsy, desperate movements. It dragged a startled groan out of Goro, but he managed to reach up and get a grip on Akira’s ass, guiding him to a smoother rhythm. They fit together so well, drawing out each other’s pleasure, and Goro looked up at the way Akira bowed his head, still instinctively trying to hide his face even as he moaned, and dragged him down to seal their mouths together. His hands slid up beneath Akira’s shirt to press into his spine, keeping him close and steady as he whimpered and cried out into the kiss.

Akira came first, breaking the kiss to bury his face in the pillow beside Goro’s head. But his satisfied moan was right in Goro’s ear, and it dragged him over the edge as well, rocking up against the perfect weight of Akira’s body. He caught his breath, then realized that Akira was settling heavily on top of him, like he wasn’t going to move. “Hey, don’t go back to sleep.”

“But it’s Sunday,” Akira whined. “We can sleep longer.”

“Not in messy pants. At least get up to change your pants,” Goro huffed, shoving at his shoulder.

In the end, Akira acquiesced, and they were both able to change their pants before Goro yielded to Akira’s insistence on returning to bed. There was nothing pressing happening today. Akira’s phone was on silent, as was his own, so any curious texts from the other Thieves were effectively ignored. It felt almost domestic, and Goro tried not to scoff out loud while Akira was using his lap as a pillow. Part of him wanted to grab his phone, scroll through his notifications, check his messages. The other part wanted to stay right where he was, playing with Akira’s hair and absorbing all the soft contact he didn’t usually get.

Oh, right, his phone.

“So,” he began, and Akira hummed curiously. “Is it true that Futaba-chan knows what kind of porn everyone watches? Or was she just taking a stab in the dark?”

Akira grumbled against Goro’s stomach. “I don’t know if she knows _everyone_ , but she...wasn’t wrong.”

“You are into shibari, then!” Goro chimed, delighted. “Goodness, a virgin with a thing for bondage.”

“Not a virgin anymore,” Akira muttered. “I bet you’ve got at least one kink, so be quiet.”

Goro poked his cheek gently. “I do, in fact. More than one. But it’s much more fun if you get to figure them out for yourself. I suppose I could give you just one for free, though.” He waited until Akira rolled over to look up at him, then said with a smirk, “Inexperience~”

Akira looked away instantly, cheeks beginning to turn red again, and Goro laughed. “I didn’t even realize until I had you looking so nervous in my lap. The daring thief, object of my desires, somehow even _more_ desirable than I had been anticipating.”

“Stop, stop, stop, you made your point, oh my god,” Akira whined, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

It was so amusing to see him like this, unguarded in a way different from spending time together in public. Apparently once you’d seen someone naked, their masks didn’t matter as much. Or maybe it was that Akira really trusted him? Goro resumed petting his hair. “How do you tolerate it, knowing that Futaba-chan is checking all your searches, and reading all your texts...listening to all of your phone calls? I would be paranoid.”

“She doesn’t listen to our phone calls,” Akira said with a sigh. “She’s using the internet connection to get in and look at our search history. It would take a real bug to listen to us, and she doesn’t have that on any of them. She’s just trolling.”

“Thank goodness. She’s frightening enough just knowing your internet searches. Imagine being unable to ever discuss a surprise ever again.” That was a relief. He would still get a new phone out of precaution to use for ‘work’ calls, something Futaba Sakura would not know about and therefore be unable to hack, but for now things were probably still proceeding as they should. In one week, the Phantom Thieves would be no more.

And in the meantime, well…

He could afford to indulge a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing is going to go wrong in the next seven days. Definitely not.
> 
> Next chapter: Akira does his best to pretend that everything is fine.


	3. Chapter 3

Surprisingly, things weren’t really awkward in the aftermath of the disastrous Casino game. Akira spent Sunday morning at Goro’s apartment, insisting that he was recuperating, but really using it as an excuse to spend more time with the other boy. The truly remarkable thing, though, was that Goro hadn’t tried to stop him. He’d just laid around with him, occasionally stroking his hair or chatting about something simple. Akira wished he knew how much of it was genuine and how much was an act. Did Goro actually enjoy his company, or was he just indulging him, thinking he was going to die in a week?

Eventually hunger had driven them out of bed, and they’d gone out for okonomiyaki before Akira finally headed home to face Morgana’s thousand questions about what had happened.

Fortunately, Morgana got the gist around five questions in, making a disgusted noise and sparing Akira from having to go into any more detail. His cat was more offended that he’d had to endure something like that than he was.

“And Akechi didn’t do anything weird?” Morgana asked worriedly. “He took you all the way back to his apartment!”

“No, Morgana, I promise, I’m fine,” Akira assured him. “He let me borrow some clothes and sleep, and he kept an eye on me to make sure I wasn’t hurt. That’s all.”

Morgana kneaded the bedsheets anxiously. “I don’t get it. He could have let one of us do that. He’s taking this act really far when there’s only a week left.”

“He just wants to make sure we’re not onto him,” Akira said. “You’ve seen how meticulous he is.” That didn’t sound right when he said it out loud, but the alternative was... 

Beside him, his phone pinged cheerfully. The group chat was buzzing at the good news that Akira was home and feeling better, and he’d already gotten several private messages asking much the same thing as Morgana. No one could understand why Goro would bother looking after the person he planned to assassinate a short while from now, and Akira didn’t dare to voice his own hopes. The plan was already in place; there wasn’t much point in trying to change it now.

At least no one was asking anything specific about what had happened in the Palace. He really didn’t want to talk about it.

“Just be careful,” Morgana insisted. “We have no idea what he’s thinking at the best of times. Don’t let him get in your head.”

“I’ve got it under control. No worries.” Now that he wasn’t undressed and trapped in a room with his crush-slash-rival-slash-murderer, it was much easier to pretend to be unaffected by the whole thing. “I’m going to rest today, though. Feel like watching the rest of X-Folders? I think the DVD is due on Tuesday.”

“Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Akira knew that Morgana was worried about him, in his own tsundere kind of way. They all were, which really was the last thing he wanted. But he didn’t know what to do, for the first time in a long time. Goro was impossible to pin down. He’d seemed genuine this morning, and last night. He’d talked Akira down from a panic attack. Was all of it really just an act so he could get close enough to pull the trigger?

But as the days passed, everything seemed normal. Goro still came to Leblanc for coffee on Monday evening, and they played their usual chess game. The only difference was that, before he left, Goro caught his hand, hesitating for a moment before giving him a chaste kiss. Akira barely had time to lean into it before he pulled away, bidding his farewells like this was just another night. But it confirmed that something had shifted in their dynamic; things were permissible now that hadn’t been before. So he steeled himself and sent him a text later that night, asking if he wanted to go play billiards after school the following day, much to Morgana’s disapproval.

“Why are you hanging out with him?!” Morgana wailed. Thankfully he hadn’t seen the kiss on Monday, or he’d be even more upset.

“This bluff goes both ways,” Akira said simply. “He still has to think we trust him.”

Morgana complained, but conceded the point eventually. He insisted that he didn’t want to third-wheel their ‘date’, which just made Akira fluster and deflect. So Morgana spent Tuesday afternoon with Ann, while Akira met up with Goro for a rematch that he promptly lost. Again.

“You’re...surprisingly unskilled at this,” Goro said, one hand to his chin in thought as he surveyed Akira from across the table.

Akira grumbled, fishing the eight ball out of its pocket and turning it over in his hands. Billiards was the one thing that he consistently lost at. He’d managed to win a game of darts here and there, and they were roughly even in terms of skill at Gun About. But something about billiards was just all wrong. Maybe he was bad at angles. “I can’t be good at everything.”

That made Goro laugh. “No, you can’t. I’m rather thankful, actually. If you were good at everything, you’d be terrifying.” He put away his cue stick and rounded the table, scooping the ball out of Akira’s hands. “I like knowing that there are things I can show you.”

“Really? I’d have thought you’d just like being better than me,” Akira teased.

“I must admit, there is a certain satisfaction to defeating you,” Goro replied. He rolled the ball across the table, back into a pocket, and turned to directly face Akira. “But...is it strange to say that it makes me happy to teach you, as well?”

Akira was pretty sure that implied more than just billiards. But he just said, “No, I don’t think it’s weird. It’s a way to share what you enjoy with someone else. And if one person is just losing all the time, it’s not fun for anyone, so you’re helping me get better. I’m a lot better than I was when we started, even if I’m still not very good.”

“You just haven’t gotten enough practice,” Goro said. “But I think you’re right. It’s rewarding to give someone a new experience, especially if they enjoy it.”

He was standing very close, and Akira was _positive_ now that he meant more than just billiards. They hadn’t talked about what had happened in the Palace since deciding to ‘see how things go’. Akira spared a glance around; the building was nearly empty on a Wednesday afternoon, and the man at the counter wasn’t paying them any attention. So he acted first, leaning in and pressing his lips to Goro’s, hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake.

Goro reciprocated immediately, leaning into him and pressing back. He didn’t seem worried about being seen, slipping his tongue into Akira’s mouth to deepen the kiss. Before Akira knew it, he was sitting on the edge of the pool table, Goro standing between his knees. His hands were in Goro’s hair and Goro’s arms were around his waist as he kissed him breathless. When he pulled back, Goro’s eyes were dark, and the detective said lowly, “If I thought we could get away with it, I’d toss you back on this pool table and give you that blowjob I promised.”

Akira felt his emotions veer wildly between want and panic. Instinctively his eyes darted around the room. The employee still wasn’t looking at them, but the idea that he could sent anxiety coiling through his guts now that something more than a kiss had been mentioned. He gently pushed Goro back and hopped down from the table, trying not to let on how he was feeling. “Your fangirls might see, and then we’ll have an even bigger problem.”

Goro tilted his head, his wine-red eyes calculating as he looked at him. Akira felt very much like a puzzle, being assembled somewhere in Goro’s head, and then Goro said lightly, “Of course. That would be quite troublesome. Better to keep things like that private.” He offered Akira a hand, and added, “Will you at least accompany me for crepes before we part ways?”

That was something he could handle, and he accepted the hand. To his surprise, Goro didn’t let go, even after they’d left the building and were on their way back to the train station. He only let go when they had to get their tickets and head through the turnstiles, and waited to take his hand again afterwards. It was...sweet. Simple. Normal. At times like this, it felt like the countdown hanging over them didn’t exist.

The good feelings carried him into Wednesday, when they finally returned to the metaverse. After a brief trip into the Casino to formally clear the way to the Treasure, during which Goro proved his value to the team by outsmarting the final trap at the bridge, they headed out to Mementos to take down the last few targets before they ‘disbanded’.

They were somewhere in Kaitul, so the shadows weren’t particularly difficult to deal with. Akira was hanging back, letting the others take their turns fighting, when Haru asked him to walk with her to check out another branch of the maze. There was a chest at the end, and while Akira picked the lock open, Haru asked quietly, “Joker, are you doing okay?”

Akira paused, then went back to work. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Haru looked at the ground. “I know I wasn’t there for what happened, but you were in such bad shape… I’m just worried about you. I don’t trust Crow.”

“None of us do,” Akira said, ignoring the way that Arsène laughed in the back of his mind. “But he isn’t going to do anything until the final Casino heist. We don’t have to worry about him until Sunday. And it’s me he wants dead, so relax. The rest of you are safe.”

The treasure chest opened with a click, and he pulled out a pouch of beads, weighing it in his palm. These would be helpful for the Casino; he had no idea what Sae’s shadow was going to turn into, and they still had to escape after the fight was over. When he finally turned to look at Haru, she didn’t seem convinced, still watching him carefully. 

“Please, Joker,” she said, “just be careful. We don’t know everything he’s capable of. I know that you were friends with him before we learned the truth, but… I just don’t want anything to happen to you. You’re a dear friend.”

“I know what I’m doing. Don’t worry.”

But he didn’t feel like he did, anymore. Shadows, at least, were predictable. Strengths and weaknesses and things Futaba could read and keep track of. But this whole situation with his team, the public, Goro? How did you navigate a brand-new relationship with a boy that was going to blow your brains out? He should be distancing himself, if he was smart. He didn’t want to die. But the voice on the phone still didn’t feel real, especially in contrast to listening to Goro speak so gently to him during and after the game. Goro had so many opportunities to hurt him, and he was kind instead. Pity? Sympathy? Why?

They heard Ryuji yelling for them from the intersection, and Akira smiled at Haru. “We should go. They’re calling us.”

“Joker…” But she trailed off, adding simply, “Just remember, we’re here if you need us.” Then she turned to head back down the tunnel, and Akira looked at the floor.

What was he supposed to tell them? That his feelings for their traitor were at odds with the plan, and all of it was settling in an anxious pit in his stomach? No. Absolutely not. He couldn’t worry them with this, not when there was so little time left. Even with the Mementos requests done, there were tools to make, other people to spend time with, and schoolwork to complete. He wasn’t going to get any of that finished if they were fussing, and it would make Goro suspicious. So he followed Haru back down the tunnel, holding up the new pouch of beads in explanation.

With their last target down, everyone piled back into the bus, and they started the long drive out of the subway. Akira ended up in the back seat, beside the window, with Goro in the middle and Ann on Goro’s other side. Makoto and Haru were in the front, and Ryuji, Yusuke, and Futaba had taken the middle seat.

They’d been in Mementos for almost three hours, and conversation was stilted by exhaustion. The bus was warm, the engine a reassuring purr vibrating through the whole thing, and his eyes felt so heavy. Akira let them fall shut, slumping down in the seat and trying to get comfortable.

He felt like he’d only been dozing for a minute when he heard muffled voices around him, like people were yelling in whispers.

“Guys, guys, look!”

“What?”

“Look at Joker!”

“...is he curled up against Crow?”

“Oh my gosh that’s adorable.”

“No, it’s not, that’s the guy that blackmailed us!”

“So? It’s still cute. Besides, he looks relaxed. That’s a good thing.”

“Crow’s asleep, too. Holy shit.”

“Oracle, are you...taking notes?”

“Uh, duh, this is good stuff.”

Half-awake, Akira was vaguely aware that he was leaned against Goro’s shoulder. He also felt the familiar unease of being stared at, but it was smothered under tiredness and comfort. Instinctively, he nuzzled closer, and didn’t notice the muffled, ‘awwwww’ as he fell back asleep. When he woke up again, the bus had stopped, and Ann was gently shaking Goro awake.

“Hm?” Goro stirred, and Akira glanced up at him just in time for him to look down and meet his gaze. When he realized that Akira was leaned up against him, his eyes went wide, and that prompted Akira to push himself up so they could both climb out of the bus. The rest of the Thieves were waiting, various degrees of amused and concerned.

“So, um, you guys okay?” Ryuji asked awkwardly.

Akira waved a hand carelessly. “I was tired. It’s been a busy week.”

Attention shifted to Goro, who gave them all a TV smile. “I think we’re all a bit tired. And it was quite warm in the bus. I apologize for dozing off.”

Futaba laughed. “We’re not upset or anything, it was just funny to see you two cuddling.”

“Cuddling implies it was intentional,” Akira huffed. “I just ended up leaning the most comfortable direction. Goro could have shoved me off.” Yes, it might have been a little unfair to shift the blame to Goro, but it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it.

But he didn’t expect Goro to reply easily, “That would have woken you up. You obviously needed the sleep. I only fell asleep because you were leaning on me.”

“Sure,” Akira said, well-aware that his friends were looking more and more incredulous the longer this went on. He wasn’t supposed to be falling asleep on Goro, or just shrugging off that it had happened.

Makoto cleared her throat. “All of us need to be sure we’re well-rested for when we steal the Treasure. We can’t make a mistake; this is to ensure our safety.”

“This is our last metaverse excursion before Saturday, correct?” Yusuke said. “We will have plenty of time to ensure we are in peak condition. I would suggest that we all relax and try not to worry.”

“And that means getting enough sleep!” Morgana insisted. He’d changed back to his usual form, and was frowning at them, paws on his hips. Ann giggled at how serious he looked.

“We will, Morgana, don’t worry.”

Once they’d organized the scraps and treasures they’d found and stuffed them into Akira’s duffle bag to be sold later, they left the metaverse and appeared in Yongen-Jaya station. Futaba immediately scooped up Morgana, chiming, “C’mon, Mona, you’re coming home with me so I can use you as a rubber duck.”

“A _what_ ,” Morgana yelped, squirming.

She didn’t let him escape, already heading for the exit. “I’m gonna explain the coding for the program I’m working on to you, so that I can double-check for any mistakes! It’ll be fun, and then you can tell me to go to bed at a reasonable time.”

The Thieves watched her go, trying not to laugh, and Haru finally said, “The rest of us should be getting home as well. Are we meeting at Leblanc on Saturday after school?”

Akira nodded. “I’m going to pick up some more medicine, so we can take time to divide the items up and then all head to the Casino together. Makoto is right about making sure we’re in good shape, so take care of yourselves. This is the home stretch.”

“You got it, leader!” Ryuji said. 

With a final round of farewells, the others departed for their trains. When Goro was the only one left, Akira, feeling emboldened with Morgana at Futaba’s, asked, “Hey, do you want to come back to Leblanc and have curry? It’s just leftovers, but there’s plenty. And...I’d like it if you stayed for a while.”

He almost thought Goro was going to say no, but then the other boy glanced down as his stomach growled. “I would like that too, I think. And not just because of the food.”

Akira laughed, catching him by the hand to tow him back towards Leblanc. Curry turned into a debate about why different people had different tolerances for spice, which turned into Akira taking him upstairs to show him a Featherman comic dub he’d found on Youcube, which turned into a discussion of the role of antagonists in a narrative.

“Without some form of antagonist, there’s nothing driving the protagonist forward,” Goro said. They’d ended up side-by-side on Akira’s bed, facing the workbench, buried beneath the queen-sized fuzzy blanket he’d found at the thrift store. The small heater in the corner only did so much against the chill of the attic. “If there’s no antagonistic force, you have no story. A protagonist without an antagonist is a boring, static character. Even if that antagonist is something nebulous, like ‘society’, or ‘himself’, it provides a sense of conflict to make the narrative interesting.”

“Society is definitely my antagonist,” Akira said, stretched out on his stomach. “There’s individuals, yeah, but if society as a whole wasn’t like this, those people wouldn’t have been able to do what they did.” He sighed. “Antagonist doesn’t mean villain, though, yeah? It’s just someone or something going against the main character. Black Condor is an antagonist for part of the series, but he’s not a bad guy. He’s being manipulated and he doesn’t have a choice.”

Yes, part of this conversation was deliberate, and to Akira’s internal delight, Goro looked conflicted. “For something on a grand scale, like Black Condor’s situation, that’s more common in fiction than real life,” Goro said quietly, turning on his side to face him properly. “But you’re correct. There are two sides to every conflict, and each side sees the other as an antagonist. Even Sae-san sees us as enemies right now, despite our good intentions. That doesn’t necessarily make one side evil, it just means that their goals are in conflict with each other.”

Akira felt himself relax, just a little. Hearing Goro agree with him was reassuring. They knew that Goro was working for someone. And that meant he might not want to kill Akira, but was being ordered to. They had to go through with the plan either way, because there wasn’t any time left to resolve things now, but at least there was that little bit of hope for afterwards. Maybe this didn’t have to end with them on opposite sides.

Sometime while they had been talking, Goro’s hand had slipped under the back of his shirt, rubbing lazy circles against his lower back, and he sighed and sank further into the mattress as Goro hit a sore spot.

“Ah, that’s right, you like massages,” Goro said, shifting a little closer. “I’m far from a professional, but if you’d like…”

“...I would,” Akira agreed, “but I’m not getting out from under this blanket. It’s cold.”

“We can work around that.” Goro pushed his shirt up, working it up and over his head so he could throw it to the floor alongside their jackets and shoes, and Goro’s belt and gloves. Without getting out from under the blanket, he sat up, causing it to settle like a tent over them, and leaned over to lay his hands on Akira’s shoulders.

Akira melted. On a night like tonight, he might have called Kawakami to help with his tension. She was more like being crushed by a steamroller, though. There was nothing erotic about that, even though it worked wonders. But Goro was being slow, methodical, working the heels of his hands against sore muscles, somehow winding him up and relaxing him all at once. He groaned as Goro pressed the breath from his lungs, and Goro laughed softly.

“Good?”

“Good,” Akira slurred. Goro worked his hands down his back, massaging just above the waistband of his pants and making him squirm before moving back to his shoulders. He lowered himself until he was settled half on top of Akira, so that he could press kisses along the slope of his shoulders. Akira let his eyes flutter closed, a content purr humming in the back of his throat.

“Hey, Akira, I’m back!”

Akira's eyes snapped open wide, and he froze as Morgana appeared at the top of the stairs. Goro lifted his head from Akira’s shoulder, and Akira watched as Morgana looked between them and the clothes on the floor before he asked, high-pitched, “What is Akechi doing here?!”

“I… Uh…” Akira stammered.

“Hello, Morgana,” Goro said calmly.

“Why are you in his bed?!” Morgana cried.

Akira swallowed hard. “I… asked him to come back with me.”

Morgana made a disgruntled, irritated noise. “...Futaba’s got actual heat in her house. You better come get me when you leave for school!”

“I-I will.” Akira watched him pad back down the stairs, well-aware that he was probably going to tell Futaba exactly why he was back so soon.

Goro hummed. “I take it that you didn’t mention we were still seeing each other?”

“I just...hadn’t found the right moment. I wasn’t sure if we really _were_ ,” Akira said. “I know there were kisses, but I wasn’t sure how to...explain. Are you upset?”

“The only thing I’m upset about is that you tensed up again,” Goro replied, kissing the nape of his neck. “Now, tragically, I have to spend even more time touching you.”

The sarcasm in his voice dragged a startled chuckle out of Akira. “I don’t think I mind that much.”

“Is that so…” Goro sat up enough to slide a hand under him and fiddle with the button of his pants. “You won’t mind if I get these out of the way, then?”

For a moment, he hesitated, then nodded. It was fine. It was just them. Morgana knew not to come back now, and they were wrapped up in the blanket. Goro could barely see him like this, much less anyone that might come upstairs. Which they wouldn’t. So he let Goro toss the rest of his clothes out from under the blanket and return to soothing the tension from his back with firm, gentle movements.

It was strange to be naked when Goro was still fully clothed, but as his hands strayed to stroke along Akira’s sides and hips, Akira wasn’t going to complain. He let Goro keep going until he couldn’t take it anymore, then rolled over and tugged the detective down into a kiss. Goro made a soft sound of surprise, but kissed him thoroughly. When Akira finally pulled back to breathe, he was startled how warm Goro’s expression was, soft but hungry as he shifted to kiss Akira’s jawline instead and murmur, “So, that blowjob I promised you… Do you want to try?”

“Yeah,” Akira whispered back. “Please.”

Goro smiled against his neck. He worked his way down Akira’s chest, continuing the massage as though he had nothing but innocent intentions. But when he reached his hips, Akira let him push his knees up and apart, a little nervous. It was a different kind of vulnerability than it had been in the Palace. He understood now why Goro had let him be ‘on top’ for that one part of the game. Knowing he could pull away was different from Goro pinning his hips to the mattress. Even though Akira trusted him, with this, at least, it was still something new.

“You look like you’re bracing for a fight,” Goro chuckled. “Relax. You’re fine.”

He took Akira in hand, giving him a slow stroke before leaning down to press his lips to the base. Akira bit back a moan, eyes wide as he watched Goro kiss his way up the length before taking the tip into his mouth. The brief moments of Goro’s mouth on him during the game were nothing compared to this. The way his tongue circled the head was _incredible_. Akira’s hips tried to buck on instinct, but Goro held him down, taking more of him into his mouth and sucking hard. Unable to thrash against the grip on him, Akira cried out instead, one hand flying down to grab at Goro’s hair. It was so good, his tongue hot and wet against sensitive skin. Akira felt like he was going to fly to pieces. The blanket had fallen aside, but he didn’t even notice, caught up in the sensations.

When Goro’s other hand came up to tease at his balls, the warmth in his guts tightened, and he shoved frantically at Goro’s head, trying to squirm away. “Wait wait wait – _ahhn!_ – stop wait—”

Goro pulled off slowly, dragging his mouth up the length until he released Akira and licked his lips. “Hm? Is something wrong?”

“I-I’m going to come if you keep d-doing that,” Akira laughed shakily.

“Isn’t that the goal?”

The smirk on Goro’s face almost set him off then and there, and he whined for a second before looking up at the ceiling. “Y-Yeah, but I… I don’t want to...this soon. I just…” There wasn’t much time left. He wanted every bit of it he could steal. “I don’t want things to be over this fast.”

Goro nipped his thigh gently. “I don’t have to be done with you for the evening after you come,” he teased. “It’s still quite early. Plenty of time to recover.”

“O-Oh,” Akira said, and when Goro ducked his head again, he didn’t object. He let Goro draw him to the edge and over with the heat of his mouth, and when he came he grabbed for his pillow in a panic and shoved it over his face to muffle his embarrassingly loud moan. When he worked up the nerve to face Goro again, he found the other boy sitting up and grinning, thoroughly amused by his reaction.

“It’s hilarious how bashful you are,” he said, and Akira threw the pillow at him.

“Shut up. Why are you still dressed?” he grumbled. “Take your clothes off so I can return the favor.”

“Oh, is that what you want?” Goro got up long enough to throw his clothes into the pile with Akira’s, then climbed back into bed beside him and dragged the blanket back over them. “In hindsight, you were right. Staying under the blanket is for the best. It’s cold up here.”

Akira hesitated. Again, that nagging thought lingered in the back of his mind that he should be distancing himself, not encouraging this. But it was hushed by contentment and warmth, and he wiggled closer. “You should stay the night, then. I’d hate for you to have to go back out in the cold.”

“I would like that,” Goro said, leaning in to kiss him, and Akira banished any ill thoughts in favor of getting as close to Goro as he could. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of learning to give a proper blowjob and multiple rounds of wandering hands, and when they finally settled in beneath the blanket, basking in the warmth of sharing a bed with another person, Akira was actually happy.

He hoped that Goro was too, even if it was just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno how I feel about this one, because blowing through half the week in one go felt a little rushed. But I think it's all right.
> 
> Soy drew [this thing](https://twitter.com/emostunttwink/status/1201321201420910592?s=21) while this was originally being discussed on Discord, and I still like it a lot. <3
> 
> Also one bit was flagrantly inspired by [this piece of art](https://twitter.com/A_nishizono/status/1181178423080669187) because _damn_ that is exactly the right expression on both of them.
> 
> Next chapter: It's too late to say it. Let's say it anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Distance. That was what he needed.

He needed to stay detached. In forty-eight hours, this mess with the Phantom Thieves would be over, and then it was just a few more weeks, and _everything_ would be over.

So why was he sitting here, staring at his original phone and thinking about texting Akira to ask him to spend the night?

It might have something to do with the coils of silken rope that were currently hidden in the bottom drawer of his dresser, purchased two days after the game but left unused so far. It was only fair to give Akira something memorable for his last night alive, right? They’d done sex and massages; he should get a chance to try out his other kink before the end.

But if he was being honest, it was just selfishness. He had to give Akira up tomorrow. He wanted one more chance to spend time with him before that.

Before he could change his mind, he typed out a message and hit send.

_[Good evening. Would you like to spend the night tonight? We both need to relax and unwind before tomorrow.]_

For a long time, there was no response, and Goro’s thoughts chased themselves in circles. Akira might not have his phone on him. He might be at the bathhouse, or just downstairs in Leblanc. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to politely turn him down, because Morgana was insisting that he stay home. Maybe he _knew_ and he was trying to keep distance between them…?

His phone chimed, interrupting his thoughts.

_[I’d like that. Let me pack my uniform so I don’t have to get up too early, and I’ll be on my way.]_

Goro sighed, unable to place whether the feeling making his chest tight was relief or nerves. He texted back a confirmation, dared to include a smiling emoji, and set about aimlessly tidying up his apartment while he waited for Akira to arrive. There was no laundry sitting out, no case files laying around, his new phone had been switched to silent and stowed away for the night… Shido wasn’t going to call him now, on the eve of their grand plan. He was only to report in when it was over.

In the middle of seeing if he had anything in the fridge he could offer his guest, there was a quiet knock on the door, and he found Akira on his doorstep with a shy smile and a small overnight bag. “Hi,” he murmured, as Goro stepped back to let him inside.

“Hello. I’m glad you came.” And he was surprised to find that he meant it.

Akira laughed, slipping off his shoes and pulling his bag higher on his shoulder. “Morgana was unhappy with me.”

Goro waved him to follow. “My room is this way; you can put your bag down. I presume Morgana is upset at your choice of company for the evening?”

“Upset he won’t be able to make sure I go to bed at a reasonable time,” Akira snarked with a grin. He padded after Goro, appearing at-ease in the apartment.

“I’m wounded by how lowly he regards my sense of responsibility. I will, of course, ensure that we are in bed at a reasonable time.” He watched Akira put his bag down, closing the bedroom door behind them, and added, “But that means we should probably get started sooner rather than later.”

Akira sat down on the end of the bed like he belonged there, looking up at Goro with a curiously unreadable expression. “And what did you have in mind?”

Goro knelt to pull the ropes from his drawer, privately thrilled with the way Akira’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the way he subtly shifted and tried to look unaffected by all of the implications contained in the sight of the cherry-red ropes. He set the coils down beside Akira, inviting examination, and said coyly, “There’s a kink of yours that we haven’t tried yet, isn’t there? Nothing too strenuous, since we have to be in our best shape tomorrow, but something simple wouldn’t hurt.”

To his surprise, Akira didn’t answer right away. He picked up one of the bundles of rope, flexing it and running his fingers over it, but stayed silent and didn’t make eye contact. Goro frowned, backtracking quickly, “Or we can do something else, if you would prefer. I don’t want to be presumptuous…”

“You bought these for me?” Akira asked quietly.

“I… Yes? I thought you might like to try, and it’s better to have good quality rope to avoid injury…”

Akira smiled in a way that he couldn’t quite parse, like he was happy and sad and confused all at once. But happiness won out in the end, and he teased, “I should thank you, then. I know how expensive nice rope can be. Let’s try it.”

“It’s as much for me as you,” Goro laughed, relieved that the odd moment had passed. “Go ahead and strip, then, otherwise I’ll have to destroy your clothes to get them off of you.”

He had every intention of getting the rope uncoiled while Akira was undressing, but as soon as Akira got up, it was very obvious what the difference was between a voyeur’s observation room, an attic with no door, and a bedroom with drawn curtains and a closed door. With guaranteed privacy and slightly more experience than before, Akira was far more willing to put on a show. Goro found himself watching with open hunger as the thief slowly dragged his shirt over his head, showing off his lean torso an inch at a time. He still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact, but he worked his pants and underwear slowly down his hips until they could drop to the floor. That left him in his socks, and he paused for a second before frowning. “...is there a sexy way to take off socks?”

Goro outright snorted with laughter. “I have no idea. Just leave them on; it’s fine. I’ll get them.” He tugged the ropes loose, then climbed into the center of the bed with Akira.

“Am I going to be stuck as the only one naked again?” Akira asked, shoving at his shoulder, and Goro rolled his eyes before tugging his shirt over his head and kicking his pants off.

“Happy?”

“Close enough,” Akira said, leaning in to kiss him. When he pulled away, he said, “All right, detective, where do you want me?”

Goro hummed. “I’m going to tie your limbs to the corners of my bed. Do tell me if anything hurts or doesn’t feel right.”

Akira looked… Well, Goro wasn’t entirely sure how Akira looked. Slightly apprehensive, slightly calculating, a little excited, but his cock was half-hard and he held out one hand obediently, and he wasn’t objecting. “Your apartment is warm,” he said, as Goro secured the first loop. “It’s a lot nicer than the attic if you’re going to be sitting around naked.”

“That’s why I invited you here instead of the other way around,” Goro teased. He was careful with the ropes, making sure that the lark’s head that formed the base of the knot wasn’t too snug before layering the other loops. When the knot was secure, he tugged at the trailing ends of the rope. “How does that feel? Nothing’s digging in?”

“No, it’s just a loop.” Akira tugged back against him, wiggling his arm like he was trying to escape. “It feels secure, I think.”

“All right. Give me your other hand, then.” Goro duplicated the tie on his other wrist, then nudged him to lie back comfortably on a pillow and got up to tie his hands to the short posts of the headboard. He didn’t have a footboard, but the legs of the bedframe would do fine for that.

Goro made sure to leave him enough slack that his arms were comfortable, then walked back around to sit in-between his legs. He watched Akira pull curiously at his bonds, but then recaptured his attention by lifting one of his feet and peeling his sock down just enough to kiss his ankle.

 _“Oh,”_ Akira breathed softly. Goro pulled the sock the rest of the way off, and Akira jerked and tried to yank away when he kissed the sole of his foot.

“Ticklish?” Goro asked. _That_ was interesting. A cute weakness. Perfect, unflappable Joker, with ticklish feet. Incredible. He watched Akira try to keep a straight face, but another kiss left him flinching and giggling. “I don’t know if the tie I was considering will work, if you’re that ticklish.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Akira was pink. “If it’s too much, you can just do the same as the one on my wrists, right?”

“That sounds like a fair compromise.” Goro did his best to be careful, laying the wraps gently but firmly in the hopes of avoiding agitating sensitive nerves. But the final knot and the bight sat right against the bottom of his foot, and every time he flexed his foot it provoked a twitch and a muffled noise. So Goro undid the tie and replaced it with the more basic knot around his ankle instead. His legs were bound to the legs of the foot of the bed, leaving him spread-eagle with just enough slack to wriggle a little.

Goro moved back up the bed to sit beside him so he could kiss his forehead. “Okay?”

Akira squirmed. “...okay.”

Plucking the fake glasses off of Akira’s face, Goro set them aside, then ran a hand down his chest slowly. “So from what I can tell,” he began, knowing Akira appreciated his voice as much as his touch, “you’re very uncomfortable with exhibitionism. And you don’t like to be stared at, even in a nonsexual way, as long as you’re not acting as Joker.” The game, plus his reactions to Morgana, the incident in the bus, and that comment in the pool hall, had proved as much. “And yet you seem to have no problems with me looking at you. You were clearly stripping for attention, earlier, and even now, spread open for me to see all of you, you’re enjoying it.”

“You’re different,” Akira said, breath hitching a little as Goro’s hand stroked down his stomach. “You look at me like you understand. Or you’re trying to.”

Goro didn’t stop touching him, running his hands back up his chest, over his bound arms, trailing down his throat. But his thoughts had halted at the quiet admission. He was different? He _was_ trying to understand; he’d been trying to get into Akira’s head since the beginning. But to have Akira recognize it and say it out loud… “I am trying to understand. You are, too, aren’t you?”

“I want to,” Akira said. “I don’t know how well I’m doing, though.”

Goro had been trying to give him as much as he could without giving him everything. He couldn’t, not even now. So he just smiled fondly, moving to sit between Akira’s legs so he could explore his thighs. “You’ve done better than anyone else ever has, I can assure you.” He dragged his fingertips from his thigh to his ankle, where he traced the ropes. “Everything still feels okay? No discomfort?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, you’re just going so slow,” Akira said, a shadow of his cocky smirk ghosting over his face.

The smirk disappeared as Goro started touching him in earnest, seeking out sensitive spots he’d learned during their massage ‘date’ and teasing his cock just enough to keep him hard and wanting. Akira writhed and tugged at his bonds, but didn’t have enough slack to push Goro away, close his legs, or cover his mouth, so he was left moaning and whimpering as Goro worked him up almost to climax and then pulled away. “G-Goro…!”

“Shh…” Goro soothed, moving to stroke his cheek and press a kiss to his mouth. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

Akira nodded frantically, and Goro ran his hands through his hair, petting. “Relax, relax. I wouldn’t leave you like this. I just want to take my time.” He reached over to the side table and picked up a long length of silky black cloth that had been sitting on top of a folded towel. “I’m going to lay this over your eyes, okay? I’m not going to tie it; you can shake it off at any time. Just breathe, and if it’s too much, you can look again. All right?”

Akira looked up at him, his eyes slightly glazed with pleasure.

“Yes,” he said, and Goro felt his insides twist at the trust in his expression and voice. He draped the makeshift blindfold over Akira’s eyes, partially just so those eyes wouldn’t keep looking into his soul, and went to get the lube.

Fingering Akira open was much easier the second time. Without the stress of the game and the fear of a new experience, the thief was much more relaxed. Goro took his time, keeping him on the edge as he stretched him, losing himself in the rhythm of working his fingers in and out. This would be the last time. He was going to make it count. He was going to make Akira feel incredible, and himself, as well.

Akira moaned so beautifully when he pushed inside, flushed beneath the fabric that he still hadn’t shaken off. Goro set a measured pace, wanting to draw things out, but quickly gave that up. It just felt too good, being inside Akira like this. And Akira was babbling his name, tugging at the binding on his wrists, begging and pleading to be set free.

“Goro, please, Goro, I want… Need… Need to hold you, please, Goro, please…!”

They came almost together, Akira still trying to reach for him even as he cried out. Goro took a moment to catch his breath, and when he looked back up, he realized there were tear tracks running down Akira’s cheeks beneath the makeshift blindfold. He moved immediately, using the slack to loosen the knots and slip the ropes from Akira’s limbs. “Akira? Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m… It’s a lot…” Akira said, shaking his head. It sent the silk slipping to the bed, revealing teary eyes. Goro grabbed the towel from the bedside table and cleaned him up, then settled behind him as he rolled onto his side. He put an arm over Akira, which just seemed to make it worse. Akira curled even further, like he was trying to trap Goro’s arm, and he was still crying.

Goro kissed the back of his neck, swallowing back a sudden urge to cry himself. He’d been doing all right, keeping his emotions back, but Akira crumbling like this was getting to him. What reason did Akira have to cry? “Please. You’re crying. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Akira sniffled. “I just… After tomorrow… This is going to stop, isn’t it? We’re going to finish the Casino; you won’t have a reason to stay with us anymore. You won’t have a reason to stay with me.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t realized that this meant more to Akira than just entertainment. But now he was crying, thinking that things had to end. And they did, just not in the way that Akira was picturing. How was he meant to respond, when there was no hope he could offer?

Before he could even begin to form a response, Akira rolled over and wrapped himself around his torso, burying his face into his neck. “Goro, if something… If something goes wrong tomorrow…”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong. We secured the route,” Goro said with confidence he didn’t feel, tightening his arm around Akira.

But Akira ignored him. “If something goes wrong, I… I think I’m in love with you.”

Time stopped. The world stopped turning. Goro’s existence narrowed itself down to his bed and the warmth of the thief next to him, still sniffling intermittently against Goro’s collarbone. He felt like it took him hours to understand just that one sentence, and when he did, he said, very quietly, “...‘think’?”

Akira laughed waveringly. “Y-Yeah. Pretty sure that’s what this is, but it’s something else I’ve never done before, so…” He squeezed Goro. “And don’t try to tell me that it’s just because I’m attached to the guy who took my virginity. I liked you before that.”

Goro pressed his lips to the top of Akira’s head, trying to keep himself from shaking. Why? Why would he say that now? Did he know? Was this some last-ditch effort to save his life? No, no, there’s no way he would have said something like that if he knew. Which meant...it was genuine?

If Akira knew what he really was, he would never feel that way in the first place. But now Goro had to lie to the boy he liked, bare and pressed so close, and hope he believed him, and it would be half a lie no matter what answer he chose. It was too late.

“...I can’t say it back yet,” Goro murmured. “Let’s get through tomorrow, so we don’t have to worry anymore, and then I can tell you, honestly. But it means everything to hear it, Akira, I promise.”

Akira shuddered, like he was going to start crying again, but he just huffed a laugh. “I understand. You don’t...have to feel the same, I just… I wanted to say it. That this meant something to me.”

“It meant something to me, too,” Goro replied. “Please don’t doubt that.”

Akira nodded, squirming away long enough to wipe his face on a clean part of the towel before returning to his prior position. He eventually fell asleep on Goro, their limbs tangled together, and only then did Goro finally let himself cry, quietly, so that he wouldn’t wake Akira. This shouldn’t have happened. But he’d let things go too far. Now he had to live with it, just like every other mistake he’d ever made.

Regardless of how much it hurt.

His sleep was fitful, but he woke up to Akira still curled peacefully beside him. They’d untangled sometime in the night, but Akira was still clinging to his hand in his sleep. Goro shifted onto his side, using his free hand to stroke Akira’s hair. One last peaceful morning. It was fine. He was fine. This was enough.

Eventually Akira had to get up and dress for school. Goro threw on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt to walk him to the door, hesitating for a moment before opening it. This was it. The next time they saw each other, it would be time for the mission, and after that…

“Thanks for inviting me over,” Akira said, with a smile that gave no indication how much he’d cried the night before. “I had fun, really. I hope we can try some more elaborate ropes next time, when we don’t have places to be the next day.”

“I’ll have to do some more research,” Goro replied, smiling back. “I think I saw a harness or two that might suit you.” Before he could second-guess himself, he leaned in to kiss Akira softly. “Have a good day. I’ll see you at Leblanc?”

“Yeah.” Akira returned the kiss, then turned away to head for the elevator. Goro watched him go until he went around the corner, then closed the door and bit his lip almost hard enough to bleed. He couldn’t be weak now. He’d made his choice.

He couldn’t risk faltering in the endgame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here's the knot Goro used, in case anyone is interested.](https://www.theduchy.com/larks-head-single-column/)
> 
> [And here's the knot he was going to use on his foot.](https://www.theduchy.com/gravity-boot-single-column/)
> 
> Oh dear oh dear, boys, look what you've done to yourselves.
> 
> Next chapter we're back to Akira's POV. Don't stab someone unless you're prepared to be stabbed in return.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please appreciate me, I haven't tried formatting like this in over a year (or two, maybe?). It didn't take me forever or eight tries this time, though, so, win? X'D
> 
> Mind the new tags, please.

Akira wasn’t sure how he made it through the school day. He was sure Ann and Morgana had noticed something was wrong, at least, considering how restless he was in class. But when they asked him about it, he assured them he was fine. Just anxious about the heist.

The Casino was bathed in crimson light as they made their way to the top and defeated Sae’s shadow. She spoke of her regrets and faded away, just as the others had, and then, it was finally time to put their plan into action. The police had arrived, and he had to commend Oracle’s acting. The others, too. Even Goro. Everyone showed the appropriate amount of shock to being ambushed outside of reality, even though everyone present had known it was coming. And so he stepped up to take the false Treasure and volunteer as bait, to allow the others time to get away. That, at least, wasn’t a lie. He was the only one that needed to be in danger.

“Just make sure that you’re all safe. That’s all I care about.”

They’d planned this to the letter. Everything would be fine. All he had to do was make it through the arrest and interrogation, and then he would be safe. They would all be safe, and they could end this. It still hurt, though. Because even if this plan succeeded, they would still have to deal with Goro eventually. And Akira had no idea how that would turn out. He knew what he wanted; he could hope with all his heart that this was more complicated than it seemed and that Goro could end up, if not on their side, on a side other than their enemies’. But there were no guarantees of anything. He might still lose Goro in the end.

But he had to go.

He bid the others good luck, noting how Goro seemed to be lost in thought, and then turned away to head back to the high-limit floor.

“Joker!”

It was Goro’s voice, and when Akira looked back, Goro was walking towards him, not following the rest of the Thieves towards the escape route. Akira hesitated. There was nothing left to say. At least, there shouldn’t be. “Crow? What is it?”

“Be careful,” Goro said, something anxious in his expression. “And, Joker…” He paused. “No... Akira.”

Real names in the Palace meant this was probably something important. But even with that little bit of foreshadowing, he was still caught completely off-guard by Goro’s next words. 

“I love you.”

Akira’s eyes went wide. What? He… He was saying it now? Akira had never expected to hear him say it back. He’d expected to go through the interrogation and whatever came after, knowing that his feelings were unrequited. It was fine. He’d almost made peace with the idea that Goro was stringing him along. But now this… One last lie? Or a promise of the truth?

Did he trust Goro, even now, on the eve of his potential murder?

He wanted to believe he did.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something but not knowing what, and Goro smiled, tiny and genuine. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

All he could do was nod. Regardless of Goro’s confession, there was still a plan to carry out. He still had to make sure everyone got out of here. So he did what Joker did best: put on a show. Leaped from chandelier to chandelier above a thousand awestruck patrons. Dashed through the halls just out of reach of the Casino’s security. Flung himself through a stained-glass window when there was no other way out, trusting training and cognition to get him to the ground without injury. And he made it, with Futaba chiming in his ear that the rest of them were safely away. So then all that was left was to get caught.

He hadn’t been expecting the hit to the face. It was brutal, and he could feel his cheekbone throbbing as he hit the ground again and had the breath knocked out of him. The police weren’t gentle cuffing him, either; someone was shoving his head into the concrete as they wrenched his arms behind his back. It was so strange, to have real people seeing him as Joker. And honestly, despite the dire situation, when they dragged him back to reality and his thief gear turned back into his school uniform, it was _hilarious_ to see the baffled looks on the officers’ faces. He didn’t know how the people in charge were going to explain away magic costumes and illusory casinos, but the reactions almost made up for getting manhandled through booking and having his mugshot taken.

He was thrown into a single cell. There were no bars on the door, nowhere to go, just a plain, empty cube. There wasn’t even a cot, and he settled himself in the corner, facing the door so no one could come up behind him. This was fine. The others had gotten away; that was the important part. Now it was up to him. But…

_Goro loves me?_

Sleep came in fits and starts. He managed to nod off for small stretches at a time, his head pillowed on his folded arms as he sat in a ball, but it was far from restful. But when they finally came to retrieve him, hours and hours later, he was awake as soon as the door opened. He had no idea how long it had actually been, and there weren’t any windows to gauge the time.

“Get up,” one of the guards ordered, and he obeyed, swaying a little on his feet, unsteady after spending the night on the floor. “Move. You’re going downstairs to interrogation.”

Here it was. Time to put on the show of his life for Sae Niijima. Hopefully the real her didn’t subconsciously remember anything that had happened the last time he’d done so. He let them re-cuff his hands behind him and followed the guards obediently, ignoring the one that kept jabbing him in the back to make him walk faster, and after two elevators and many empty hallways, they ushered him into a small, dimly lit room with a table and two chairs where a man in a suit was waiting.

That...wasn’t Sae. What was happening?

“So,” the man in the suit said, “I don’t know why they’re bothering to interrogate you. We caught you red-handed, but that prosecutor is insisting. All we really need, though, is your signature on this confession. And we have all the time in the world to wait for you to sign it.”

Akira said nothing, but glared at the man. He wasn’t signing _anything_. He would talk to Sae, but that was all.

Two of the guards pushed him into a chair, maneuvering his bound arms around the back of it and causing his wrists to chafe painfully against the handcuffs. The man walked over to look down at him, waving the clipboard he was holding in Akira’s face. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

When he didn’t get a response, he set the clipboard on the table. Akira waited, wondering what he was going to ask next, but he couldn’t keep back a pained cry as the man turned back around and punched him squarely in the face. “I wasn’t expecting the notorious phantom thief to be a disagreeable brat. But that’s fine. Everyone has their breaking point.”

Akira spit on his shoes, and the man responded by kicking him in the shin. He gritted his teeth and tried not to cry out this time, but his lack of reaction didn’t stop the assault, nor did it stop the other guards from getting in on it. He endured blow after blow, wrenching his wrists against the cuffs as he tried to shift away, until finally the man ordered them to stop.

There was a box on the table, and from it the man drew a syringe. Akira’s eyes widened, and he tugged more frantically at his bonds, ignoring the way the cuffs dug into his wrists. “Wait, that’s… You can’t…!”

“Are you going to sign the confession?” the man asked, and Akira gritted his teeth. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The man grabbed his hair and harshly yanked his head to the side so he could jab the needle into his neck. Akira yelled, but had the sense not to thrash until the needle had been pulled out. He tried to pull away from the hold on his hair, but all he succeeded in doing was making it hurt worse, and enraging his captors.

“Give him another.”

Having two doses of whatever drug it was in his blood made him feel lightheaded remarkably quickly. The edges of his vision started going fuzzy, and he tried to ask, “What did you give me?” but it came out in a mumble.

Someone punched him in the side, and he whined as his ribs took the brunt of it.

“Not so cocky now, are you, thief?” one of the guards jeered.

“This can end at any time,” the man in the suit sad. “All you have to do is sign the confession.”

“No,” Akira wheezed.

Someone backhanded him hard enough that it sent his thoughts clattering around his head like loose marbles. He felt like he couldn’t grasp a coherent sentence long enough to get it from his mind to his tongue, even if he wanted to speak. They kept asking him questions, about the Casino, about his teammates, about how they’d pulled off the heists. And each time he refused to answer, and some new abuse was heaped on him. 

He was wrenched from the chair at some point, slammed forward onto the table, and he thrashed weakly in a panic as they shoved his shirt up to his armpits, maneuvering underneath his bound hands to bare the upper half of his back.

“All you’re doing is making this worse on yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Akira spat.

He cried out as one of the guards brought a baton down on his back with a sharp thwack. The pain was making him so dizzy; it was getting harder and harder to focus. There were hands on his ass and lower back, keeping him from pushing himself upright, and he tried to struggle, but the drugs were finally working their way completely into his system, and everything was fading out to a dim fuzz…

.

A splash of water brought him slightly back to his senses, but things were still hazy. He didn’t know how much time had passed; he was back in the chair, and the man in the suit was in front of him again. The man grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up, and Akira tried to glare at him.

”Feeling more agreeable?” the man mocked, as a guard unlocked his wrists.

“M’not signing anything…” Akira slurred.

He was brutally knocked from the chair again, letting out a pained noise as his leg caught on the corner. He could tell it left a scrape, but he was distracted as one of the guards stepped on his head, grinding his booted foot into his temple. He struggled not to cry, but pained tears escaped regardless, and the guard laughed.

“No one is coming to help you,” the guard mocked, and the man with the suit shoved the clipboard into his face again. He pushed it back, but a booted foot slammed down on his leg and his mind scattered again into a white noise of pain. He was half-aware of tears running down his face, and there was a pen being shoved into his hand.

He didn’t know if he signed the clipboard or not. Everything after that was in and out, fizzing static in his vision. Someone propped him back up in the chair, and he rested his head in his hands.

When he looked up again, Sae was in front of him, asking questions of her own. He knew he had to convince her, without giving too much away, but once he started talking, he couldn’t stop. Time blurred as he went through his year in insane detail. Always remembering never to mention anyone by their real names. And by the time he got to the Casino, the thought his brain was stuck on, but he couldn’t say…

_Loves me?_

He had to get her to take the phone. She was wavering, he could tell. She believed him.

But did she believe him enough to get him out of here?

If he couldn’t convince her to save him, even if she thought he was innocent, he was going to die.

_Loves me?_

Maybe not… Maybe Goro wouldn’t do it… But how was he going to get out of here? He still had to rely on her, otherwise he would be stuck in jail, and someone else would step up to do what Goro hadn’t… He did his best to explain the situation with the traitor, without specifics that could put them in danger. Without naming names. And he hoped desperately that it was enough.

Sae took the phone, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He was so tired. It had taken the last scraps of his focus to stay awake long enough to convince her. Now, though… Did he need to stay awake long enough to get back to Yongen? Would Sae be able to carry him…?

_But...Goro loves me?_

He put his head down on the table, the cool metal soothing against his forehead. It gave him a speck of clarity, hazy eyes tracking the many needles scattered around the floor as he rolled his head to the side. No wonder he felt so out of it. His head was swimming, and he let his eyes drift shut slowly.

“What did you _do?!”_

Someone was upset. He flinched instinctively. The idea of getting hit again was frightening.

They were saying his name, but no one touched him. A low murmur drifted around the cell, but he didn’t know if it was talking to him or what it was saying. His head was so heavy. He couldn’t focus.

The voice kept talking, low, sometimes sharp, sometimes sweet, always indistinct, and then it fell silent for a minute. Then there were two voices, going back and forth, one soft, one deep and vibrating in his bones. He wished they’d do something. Either go away and stop talking, or just kill him and end it. He opened his mouth to tell them as much, but nothing came out, and then the world lurched. If he’d had any energy, he might have thrown up. But after that all he felt was weightless. He couldn’t even feel the chair anymore.

It was like he was flying...

.

.

.

When Akira regained consciousness, the first thing he registered was someone tugging at his clothes.

The last thing he _remembered_ was talking to Sae in the interrogation room. Everything from then to now was an empty blur, and everything before that was a whirlwind of pain and fear, needles, heavy boots on his head, hands on him with nothing but painful and indecent intentions. So the realization that his shirt was gone and someone was trying to pull down his pants prompted a panicked flail and a fearful cry.

“Akira!” someone snapped, and Akira struggled harder, ignoring the pain that moving caused in his desperation to get away from whoever was touching him. Tears spilled over, and he felt like he couldn’t get enough air. He had no idea what was going on or if Sae was coming back for him. Maybe something had gone wrong. Maybe she’d decided to leave him there anyway.

Weight pressed down on top of him, and he went still, his breath shallow and quick, heart racing. It hurt to breathe, and his cheek stung as tears ran over scrapes left from the guards’ abuse. Whoever it was had stopped messing with his remaining clothes, hands holding his shoulders down firmly instead. It was only then that he realized he was pinned to something soft, a pillow under his head instead of the cold concrete floor.

“Akira.” And now he realized it was a familiar voice, much more gentle, calling his first name. Startled, Akira’s eyes flew open.

Goro hovered over him, his honey-brown hair falling around his face as he stared down at him with concern. Akira swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to think through fear and a pounding headache. Where was he? What was Goro doing here? There had been a plan, because he was supposed to…

“Will you hold still?” Goro asked, leaning back and laying a hand on Akira’s chest instead.

Akira shuddered, reacting to the touch without conscious thought. “D-Don’t. Don’t touch me…” he croaked, his voice wrecked. He was still crying, and was aware enough of it to be embarrassed at how he was acting, but that didn’t help him stop. It really only made him feel worse.

Goro frowned, but took his hand away. “I have to clean your wounds. You have some very bad abrasions, and several of those bruises need ice.”

“No, no more, please…” He felt like a cornered, injured animal, and weakly pushed at Goro, trying to get him away. He couldn’t take any more. Another hit would be the end of him, at this point.

“Akira, you have to hold still. You trust me, don’t you?” Goro asked. “I just need to be able to see where they hurt you.”

There were no healing spells in reality. He could barely move without pain, much less something like sitting up or getting away. He didn’t know how he’d gotten here or what Goro might be planning, but the detective-slash-assassin was all that he had right now. If Goro wanted to treat his wounds, it was probably best to let him for now, until he was strong enough to get away. But…

“I know you don’t want to be touched right now,” Goro murmured, as if reading his mind, “but just a few minutes. I’ll be quick.”

“...okay,” Akira whispered at last. “Wh-What happened? I was…”

“Relax.” Goro reached out of Akira’s view and pulled a first-aid kit towards him. “They hurt you, but I got you out. You’re safe. We’re at my apartment.” He took Akira’s hand, examining the cuts left behind on his wrists by too-tight cuffs. “This is going to sting.”

Akira found himself holding his breath, wincing at the feeling of antiseptic against the raw skin. He was still afraid, but he kept still as Goro wrapped his wrists gently in gauze and moved on to his other scrapes. When they were all clean, Goro glanced back up at him, uncertain behind his bangs. 

“You...have at least one wound on your leg,” he said, surprisingly awkwardly. “That’s why I was trying to get your pants off.”

“It’s...okay,” Akira agreed tentatively. “I was just...confused when I woke up. I didn’t know where I was.”

He shifted a little, letting Goro tug his pants off. There was a bruise on his left thigh that had turned a deep indigo, and a scrape down his other leg that he vaguely remembered getting when he’d been shoved off the chair. Goro was gentle, clinical, cleaning the shallow scrape and retrieving small bags of ice from a cooler that wasn’t visible on the floor to rest on his bruises.

“How do you feel?” he asked. He started to reach out, like he was going to lay a hand on Akira’s forehead, but caught himself.

Akira took a deep, shivering breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he did. “I… My head hurts. And I’m...really thirsty.”

Goro nodded. “Probably from the drugs they gave you. Here, I have painkillers and bottled water.” He helped Akira sit up, touching him as little as possible, and carefully handed him the bottle and the pills. He didn’t look offended when Akira examined the pills, just waited patiently until Akira was satisfied and swallowed them down.

“What happened?” Akira asked again, once he was laid back in bed.

But Goro just removed the makeshift ice packs and pulled the blankets over him, looking melancholy. “You’re very badly hurt,” he said firmly. “I didn’t even mean to wake you. It’s late in the evening. Please just sleep for now, and I’ll explain everything in the morning.” He looked away and sighed heavily, then said, “There’s only one bed in my apartment, if you remember. I’ll sleep on the couch if it makes you more comfortable, but I would rather stay here in case anything happens overnight. But, only if you’re all right with it.”

Akira swallowed thickly, thinking of just two nights ago, spent nestled close before all of this. “I… That’s okay. Just… not too close, for now. I don’t know how I’ll react.”

Goro smiled sadly. “Of course. I’m trying to take care of you, not frighten you even more.” He got up, gathering the first aid kit and water bottles. “Let me put these out of the way. I’ll join you soon.”

He vanished into the bathroom, and Akira tried to slow his racing thoughts. Something had gone wrong. There had been a plan to get him out, but it was also a plan to avoid Goro, because his charming sort-of-boyfriend had been planning to assassinate him in custody. Yet Goro had told him he loved him, and somehow he’d ended up in Goro’s apartment, with Goro himself saying that he’d saved him. It was too much to puzzle out when the painkillers hadn’t kicked in yet, and he slumped against the pillows, his head feeling so heavy. When Goro returned from the bathroom dressed in plain sweatpants and a loose T-shirt, he kept his word, slipping into bed on the other side and not touching Akira. “Sleep,” he encouraged when he noticed Akira was still awake. “I’ll explain everything tomorrow.”

Everything in Akira was still setting off alarm bells, but as the painkillers finally started dulling his headache, they were smothered until a thick layer of exhaustion. The last thing he saw before his mind dragged him under was Goro, eyes closed and face peaceful like nothing had changed.

...maybe…

...maybe nothing had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very happy with how my drugged prose turned out, actually. ^_^ Workskins are less scary than I gave them credit for.
> 
> Next chapter...we're actually staying with Akira's POV for a little longer. He needs space to be confused. :P


	6. Chapter 6

Akira slept like the dead, and the next time he woke up, the sun was streaming through the window, and the smell of food was coming from the kitchen. His first instinct was to attempt to sit up, but that was quickly abandoned after the pain in his abdomen made itself known. Stuck flat on his back in Goro’s bed, he took a careful breath and began taking stock of his other injuries, now that he could think without being blinded by panic.

Flexing his wrists stung; the cuts were deep in comparison to the other scrapes he’d gotten. Breathing caused his chest to ache, but not as badly as the last time he’d woken up. The worst injuries seemed to be the bruises on his leg, back, and stomach. It hurt trying to shift his body, and even if his leg would hold his weight, he knew that he wouldn’t be going anywhere quickly.

Goro could easily overpower him if he tried to run.

It was so confusing, trying to reconcile what he’d heard with what he’d experienced. Goro Akechi was a traitor. They had a recording of his voice detailing his plan to murder Akira. Goro Akechi was also someone he loved. He had brought Akira to his apartment and treated his wounds. It made what they’d heard feel like a lie, but why would he say something on the phone about murdering Akira?

He scoped out the room from his prone position. It was just Goro’s bedroom, nothing out of place, but there was a glass of water and two more pain pills on the nightstand, and Akira forced himself to move enough to take them, hoping it would help. He’d just settled back against the pillows when the door opened, and Goro appeared with a tray and a shirt hanging over his arm.

“Oh. Are you feeling any better this morning?” Goro asked. He came over to set down the tray. There was fried rice, a sloppily-folded omelette, and two mugs of coffee. Akira stared at the mugs, and Goro shrugged apologetically. “Instant coffee, I’m afraid. My barista skills are not quite on par with yours.”

Once Goro helped him sit up properly, piling up the pillows so he had support, Akira tested his fingers. He deemed himself stable enough to hold the mug, and gratefully took a sip. “It’s okay. I’m not that spoiled yet.” The heat felt good on his bruised hands, and he took a moment to let it soak in.

When he handed it back to Goro, the other boy set it on the side table, then said, “Lean forward a little, so I can check the bruises on your back. What on earth did they hit you with?”

“Some kind of baton…” Akira muttered, wincing as he moved. He watched Goro lean over to grab a tube off the tray, and asked warily, “What’s that?”

“Ice is best for bruises, for short periods of time, but I’ve found that this ointment helps as well,” Goro explained. He began smoothing the gel carefully onto Akira’s back, mindful not to press too hard and aggravate the painful spots, or linger long enough to make Akira uncomfortable. When it was finished, he moved on to the ones on his stomach and leg, then handed him the shirt he’d brought. “Here. As much as I appreciate looking at you in just underwear, you should probably put this on.”

Akira managed to get it over his head with minimal movement of his torso, then said, a little insistently, “You promised to tell me what happened.” Medical care was nice and all, but it didn’t clear up any of what had gone on between the interrogation room and now.

Goro hummed and handed him one of the bowls of rice. “I did. So, eat, and I’ll explain. I doubt you’ve had any food since you were arrested.”

The rice was a little overdone, but as soon as he took a bite, he realized how hungry he was. While he stuffed his face, Goro began, “We certainly didn’t intend for you to get arrested. I thought for sure that you would get away, but watching you get hit like that… I promised your friends that I would get you out, because of my police connections. You were in such bad shape… I knew I couldn’t take you to the hospital, because it would be better for everyone if the police thought you were dead, so I staged the scene and brought you here so I could patch you up.” He took a sip of his own coffee, then continued, “I wasn’t able to get your phone back, unfortunately, but I texted your friends. They are aware that you are safe. Makoto told me that we both had been removed from the group chat in case I was caught, but I still had her number, so she’s aware of the situation.”

Akira frowned into his rice. That didn’t sound...wrong. Goro didn’t have that fake tone he used around fans and strangers. It was the more genuine tone he reserved for when they were alone. Except, they’d had a plan, and he wasn’t sure why his friends would take Goro’s word for it that he was safe. Maybe a photo? But he couldn’t ask without it seeming suspicious, so instead he said, “Are they coming to see me?”

“It’s dangerous for now if I have too many people coming and going from my apartment,” Goro said. “You need time to recover, and then we can get you into proper hiding so we can figure out what to do from here.”

There were so many things that he didn’t know. Had his friends figured out who Goro was working for? Were they already planning another Palace run? Had they let Goro in on those plans? Once again, it wasn’t the sort of thing he could risk asking, so he just nodded.

“Thank you for getting me out,” he murmured, and that, at least, was completely genuine. He would rather be here, confused but with Goro, than still in prison with the threat of another beating hanging over his head.

Goro leaned in very slowly, giving Akira time to stop him, to press a kiss to his cheek. “I wasn’t going to leave you there. Of course I came to get you.”

He should be suspicious. He should be worried about that phone recording and the reasons for it. He should be worried about his friends, and whether they were preparing to run another Palace without him. But his aching body just wanted comfort after the hell he’d been through, and once he’d polished off the food, he let Goro settle beside him and hold him gently, rubbing soothing fingers against his spine through his borrowed shirt.

He drifted between pleasantly half-asleep and a maelstrom of questions he couldn’t voice. At the moment, all he could trust were the things he knew for certain. He wasn’t in prison any more. He wasn’t dead. His injuries had been tended. And Goro was still here, warm at his side, making sure he wasn’t alone to dissolve into panic.

“They beat you, trying to get information?” Goro asked after a while.

Akira flinched, burrowing closer. “Y-Yeah. I don’t… I don’t remember a lot of it. They gave me a lot of drugs, trying to get me to sign a confession…”

“But you didn’t tell them anything?” Goro reached up to stroke his hair.

“I might have signed it, but I only talked to Sae-san… I know I did…” He shut his eyes, unsure whether he was trying to block out the memories or call them back. “I can’t remember… I just remember being hit. A lot.”

Goro sighed, something melancholy in his expression. “Clever enough not to talk, even while being tortured...but not clever enough to avoid capture in the first place. How were you planning to get out of there? You had to have some kind of backup plan.”

Akira bit his lip. He couldn’t explain. He didn’t know what was going on. He still didn’t know why Goro had been able to get to him instead of getting tossed into the metaverse. So it would be a bit awkward to say that the plan had been to avoid Goro and hope Sae came back for him.

“Actually… No backup plan this time,” Akira lied quietly. “I just wanted all of you to be safe. I was going to figure out the rest afterwards, but I wasn’t expecting that many drugs.” The last part wasn’t a lie, at least. He didn’t know how he’d managed to convince Sae of anything, much less to take evidence with her on the word of a criminal, when he was a mumbling disaster. Even if the phone had seemingly been pointless in the end.

Goro didn’t respond, and when Akira looked up at him, the expression on his face was a strange mixture of disappointed, bitter, and sympathetic. “Goro?”

Goro huffed and tugged gently at a curl of his hair. “If you truly didn’t have a plan, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

“I’m your idiot, though,” Akira said, and Goro kissed his forehead.

“...yes. My idiot,” Goro murmured.

Akira nudged further up to kiss his mouth. “I do want to know how you got me out,” he said. “I know you’re police, but they wouldn’t have just let you leave with my unconscious body.”

“I was very clever,” Goro said, smiling. He nuzzled in for another kiss, that hint of bitterness gone, then continued, “But unfortunately, I can’t stay here with you all day, so I don’t have time to explain now. I negotiated going into work late, but if I don’t go at all, people will get suspicious. There’s an endless list of things to do and reports to file now that they think you’re dead.”

“But what if I wither away from boredom while you’re gone?” Akira whined, but he let Goro help him shift his weight back to the pillows so Goro could get up.

“I have books,” Goro laughed. “I wasn’t going to just leave you to lie around in bed with no source of entertainment. I’ve also made onigiri for your lunch; they’re not the best, but I needed something you wouldn’t have to get up for, and something that wasn’t too heavy, since you’re still recovering.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Akira said. “Breakfast was good.”

Goro looked incredibly pleased at that, which was...cute, actually. He fetched Akira the onigiri, several water bottles, more painkillers to take if his injuries started bothering him again, and a stack of books that included mystery novels, Featherman light novels, and, to Akira’s great amusement, a copy of _Arsene Lupin vs. Herlock Sholmes_.

“I bought it on a whim after I met you,” Goro huffed. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” Akira assured him, definitely muffling laughter. “But you wouldn’t even have known what my persona was at that point. That’s hilarious.”

“Oh, let me assure you, after that initial Casino mission, I came home and had a minor breakdown. It’s obvious in hindsight that the leader of the Phantom Thieves would have the most famous phantom thief as his persona, but at the time…” Goro swatted him gently on the top of his head with the paperback. “I’m going to get dressed for work. Stop distracting me.”

“I can’t reach my full distraction potential when I can’t move,” Akira countered with a grin.

He watched Goro disappear into the bathroom, then poked through the paperbacks halfheartedly before picking up the Lupin novel. It would be fun to read other people’s stories about Arsène, especially going up against a detective like Sholmes. For obvious reasons.

Goro eventually left for work after making him promise not to try to get out of bed. Akira promised, even though he was already feeling better than he probably should, considering he’d been tortured not even twenty-four hours ago. Thank goodness the painkillers were working, or Goro’s absence would have been unbearable. He wouldn’t have been able to focus on the book at all. Then he’d be bored _and_ in pain.

When he was about halfway through, he stopped to eat his lunch, and while the onigiri were good, it gave his thoughts time to wander. How _had_ Goro gotten him out? He was sure there had been a guard at the door. Even if Goro had told him to leave, that was still someone who knew that the last person to enter the interrogation room before Akira disappeared was Goro. What if they tried to track him? What if they searched his apartment?

Or...maybe he was looking at this wrong. Goro had said they thought he was dead. Maybe the phone call was true, and he had been planning to kill Akira, and he’d simply...told them that he’d done it, and brought Akira here, instead?

He needed to talk to his friends. He needed answers to so many things, before he could start untangling where he and Goro stood. Goro was here, taking care of him, which he wouldn’t be doing if he wanted him dead. But anything beyond that...Akira just couldn’t be sure.

He finished _Lupin vs. Sholmes_ around dinnertime, and just as he was digging through the pile of paperbacks for something else to read, he heard the front door open, and Goro’s voice calling cheerfully, “Honey, I’m home!”

“That’s my line,” Akira snarked, as Goro appeared in the doorway. “But...you’re forgiven, because I see a takeout bag from Big Bang Burger.”

“I figured you might appreciate real food and not my mediocre cooking,” Goro hummed. “If you consider Big Bang Burger real food.” He set the bag on the end of the bed. “Let me go get plates, so you don’t get crumbs all over my bed.”

“I’m not _that_ much of a slob!” Akira called after him.

He didn’t necessarily think Goro’s cooking was _bad_ , just...inexperienced. But Big Bang Burger was definitely preferable to over or under-cooked rice. They talked about the novel over dinner, because Goro wanted to hear his thoughts on Lupin’s rivalry with Sholmes, and after the dishes had been put away, Akira asked, “Can I call my friends?”

Goro hesitated. “...I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Why not?” Akira pressed. “I know you said you told them I’m safe; I just want to talk to them for a little while.”

“I think my phone is being monitored,” Goro said. “The police are doing everything they can to find the remaining Phantom Thieves; if I call any of the others now, it could give them and us away.”

“But you said you contacted Makoto to let her know I was all right,” Akira said.

Goro shook his head. “I called her from a public phone in the station. No chance of being spied on. I’m sorry, Akira. Once you’ve healed, I’ll take you somewhere safer than here and get them to meet us there. I just don’t want anything to happen to you while you’re still recovering.”

“I understand…” He didn’t push any further, unable to place the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. But he was feeling well enough for chess, and Goro went back to get the tray so they could set the board up on the bed. It was just like any other Monday evening, if you ignored that Akira was laid up in bed.

It wasn’t until later that night, curled on his side with Goro spooned behind him, that Akira realized what was wrong.

He’d had a nightmare, indistinct and filled with menacing, faceless figures. He’d been trapped in a scenario where he hadn’t convinced Sae to take the phone, and the guards had come back with every intention of picking up where they left off. In the dream, he’d known for sure that this time, he was going to die in that room by their hands.

But once he’d woken up, shivering beneath the comfortable weight of Goro’s arm until his heart slowed, his thoughts focused on the phone. Goro had said… He’d said he texted Makoto to tell the others that Akira was safe. But then he’d said that it wasn’t safe, that the phone could be monitored, and that he’d called the others from a public phone. Why two different explanations?

He jumped at the kiss pressed to the back of his neck, and Goro’s voice, slightly groggy from sleep, asked, “What’s wrong? You’re shaking; did you have a nightmare?”

“...yeah,” Akira muttered, turning onto his back.

Goro reached up to brush his fingers against his cheek. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Are your injuries okay?” 

They’d been a little worried that sleeping on his side would aggravate his bruises, but Akira felt fine. Physically, at least.

This situation shouldn’t be suspicious. But something was definitely weird. He couldn’t pinpoint anything clearly except the discrepancy about the phone call, and that alone wasn’t something to confront Goro with, not when there was the chance that it would wreck the current peace between them if it was just Akira’s mildly traumatized imagination.

So he said softly, leaning into Goro’s touch, “No, I feel okay. Just a little unnerved.”

“After something like that, I’d be surprised if you _weren’t_ having nightmares,” Goro replied. He took Akira’s hand and squeezed gently. “Try to go back to sleep. And...you can wake me up next time. Don’t worry about disturbing me.”

Akira squeezed back. “I know. I’m just not used to having anyone around other than Morgana.” He rolled back onto his side, dragging Goro’s arm with him until the other boy was spooned against his back again. It was a comforting position. After the game, the night before the Casino… It let him pretend for a little longer that everything was okay. Even though it probably wasn’t. But that was something to deal with in the morning. For now, he just wanted to go back to sleep.

Goro held him close, murmuring comforting nonsense into his hair, and eventually he managed to doze back off. When he woke again, Goro was gone, and there was a note on the side table apologizing for having to go into work early. Akira instinctively sat up to stretch, then hesitated. He hadn’t taken any pain medication since the night before, but he wasn’t in any pain at all. When he peeled his shirt off, his bruises were far lighter than they should be after only a day of bed rest. He’d had unhealed metaverse injuries before, and none of them had healed this quickly.

He ignored the food left for him to get up and test his leg. It felt fine, and he bounced awkwardly on the balls of his feet for a moment before deciding to take a shower. He wanted one, and since he felt fine, he was going to take advantage. Maybe the hot water would help clear his head.

The shower was practically sinful after being beaten up and stuck in bed. For a long time, Akira just stood under the water, letting it run over him. But he had no idea how long the hot water would last, so eventually he had to start washing his hair. That was when he noticed the green glimmer on the underside of his arm, and his eyes widened.

It was a scrap of one of Takemi’s medical patches, clearly damaged from the fight in the Casino. He’d taken a few bad hits, but one piece still clung stubbornly to his skin. It shouldn’t be working outside of the metaverse, but as Akira watched, another weak green spark glittered from it.

He unwound the wet gauze from his wrists and examined his cuts. The scabs looked like they’d been there for a week, not a day. Was it the patch? Damaged, but still leeching just that little bit of healing into his skin, a spark at a time, not even able to fully heal him after a whole day…

Akira swallowed the lump in his throat and finished washing his hair, but the shower was less luxurious than before. When he got out, he went looking for clean clothes after toweling off his hair, and found one drawer in the dresser with a few clean shirts. The other drawers were empty. The closet had a few pairs of dress and lounge pants, and Akira snagged a comfy pair of flannel pants, growing more and more unsettled.

He padded into the main area of the apartment, checking the kitchen cabinets next. Plates, cutlery...but no food. There was nothing in the fridge but bottled water. Akira chewed his lip, willing himself not to panic yet. He went to the bookshelf next, choosing a book at random and flipping it open. The words blurred together, unreadable, and Akira put it back and stumbled back to Goro’s room, snatching up one paperback after another that Goro had left for him. All of those were readable.

Where _was_ he? What was going on? He wasn’t in his thief gear, but this couldn’t be reality, either.

Goro had… Would he really have...

He forced himself to eat, knowing he needed his strength, and then grabbed a kitchen knife and stuck it under one of the pillows. He should wait for Goro to come back. Wait for answers. That was the safest thing, since he had no idea where he was and didn’t have a phone to use to escape. And there might still be something he didn’t understand. But he still wanted to be able to defend himself.

If Goro thought he was still hurt, he’d have the element of surprise, at least.

Akira’s luck didn’t hold, though, because he didn’t hear Goro come in around lunchtime. He was peering out the window, trying to see if there was anything strange about the city beyond the apartment building, when he heard Goro’s voice behind him.

“You’re out of bed,” Goro said, his voice neutral.

Akira turned around and smiled. “I’m feeling a lot better today. I took a shower, and my bruises don’t really hurt. Do you think it’s safe enough to move somewhere else, so I can see the others?”

Goro set his briefcase on the dresser. “How did you heal so fast? Those injuries… You shouldn’t even be moving yet.”

“Just a fast healer, I guess,” Akira said. “But really, shouldn’t we move if I’m well enough? If they’re watching your phone, they might be watching your apartment.”

“They’re not. And it would take me a few days to ensure another place is ready,” Goro said, too quickly, and Akira’s expression fell.

“...are you trying to keep me here?” he asked softly, edging towards the bed.

Goro frowned. “Why would you say that?”

“Because you lied to me about your phone. You said you texted Makoto, but then said later that you called her from the station and I couldn’t use the phone, because people might be listening,” Akira said, still inching towards the pillow, just in case.

“I lied to you?” A hint of a snarl crept into Goro’s voice. “You lied to me, too. Saying you didn’t have a backup plan when clearly you did.”

So Goro did know about the plan. What had gone wrong? When had he figured it out? Akira reached the bed and planted his feet. “I wouldn’t have needed a backup plan if you hadn’t been planning to _murder me!_ ” he cried, giving up on subtlety and throwing everything out at once. “Did you even really tell my friends where I am?!”

Goro’s expression crumpled. “Akira…” he said, taking a step forward, only to stop when Akira pulled the knife out from under the pillow and brandished it in front of him. “Please put that down. You don’t understand.”

“I understand that you’ve kept me in your apartment and let my friends think I died!” Akira said furiously. “Where is this?! What did you do?!”

“I spared your life!” Goro shouted back. “I was going to get you out, but then I got caught in your stupid _plan_...! You… You spent a whole week lying to me! Acting like you cared! You told me you _loved_ me! But you knew the whole time and you never said a word!”

“I _do_ love you! But you lied to me even longer than that!” Akira insisted. “All _year_ , Goro! Smiling and being nice to me! Treating me like a lover, that last week! Getting all of that fancy rope! Was that some sort of fucked-up apology, one last nice thing, letting me try out bondage because you thought I was going to walk obliviously into my own murder?" He hadn't felt this angry in a long time, waving the knife as he spoke. "And you told me that you loved me too, and then you fucking _kidnapped_ me!”

 _“You let me!”_ Goro yelled, his voice cracking, and Akira froze.

“...what?”

Goro looked at the floor. Akira could see him shaking, fists clenched at his sides. “You let me,” he repeated, much quieter. “You let me bring you here.”

Akira took a deep breath, calmed his urge to snap that Goro was lying again, and pointed at the bed. “You’re going to explain everything that happened after the Casino. Now,” he said firmly. “I deserve answers.” He didn’t think he would have agreed to this, but who knew what he’d said in his drugged state?

“...I can explain,” Goro said. He moved to sit on the bed, now looking more morose than angry. “I just… I panicked. I didn't know what else to do. I didn’t want to give you up.”

“Explain, then,” Akira said. He lowered the knife, but took a few steps back, keeping outside of grabbing distance.

He wanted answers. And Goro _had_ made the decision not to kill him. He could at least hear him out.

Maybe everything could still be salvaged afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Li, why does the chapter count keep goi--"
> 
> Because. Because is why. It's not going any higher, I promise, I just decided I should probably write an epilogue after all this gets straightened out.
> 
> Next chapter: Time to switch POVs again and go back to those missing scenes. Goro, Goro, what did you _do?_


	7. Chapter 7

**[Voice Chat - Operation Pancakes]**

[Okay, Futaba, how does it look?]

[Good. Makoto’s in the Palace. I can’t believe we forgot about Cognitive Akechi being a possibility.]

[I kind of wanted to see him in a Casino costume, but I guess it makes more sense that he’s in the precinct.]

[Yeah, Niijima would associate him with that place more.]

[The important thing is that he is neutralized and cannot interfere with the plan.]

[Right. Makoto’s gonna kick his ass so he’s out of the way.]

[Is there any movement from Akira-kun’s phone?]

[Not yet… Wait, there it goes. It’s on the move; Niijima-san must have it. And Akechi’s phone is heading right for it. She just has to get him to stop for one minute…]

[Oh man this is so stressful!]

[Don’t yell! We can all hear you, jeeze.]

[Got it! He’s been tossed into the metaverse. I can still see his phone, though, so we’ll know when he leaves. Now Niijima-san just has to get up the elevator.]

[This is quite nerve-wracking. But at least our leader is safe.]

[Tell me about it. I’ve never been so nervous in my LIFE.]

[I can’t believe we pulled this off, holy shit.]

[Of course we did, we’re the Phantom Thieves!]

[Okay, elevator is done, waiting for her to get around the corner… Counting down to activating the message on Akira’s phone… And… Playing. I think we’re in the clear. Akechi’s just standing there, probably making some sort of villain speech.]

[Thank goodness… I’ve been so worried…]

[Did Makoto come back? Surely it wouldn’t take that long to secure Sae’s perception of Akechi.]

[Not yet. She’s probably making sure he doesn’t escape, just in ca—]

[Futaba?]

[Futaba-chan?]

[Futaba, what is it?]

[He’s… He’s taken out his phone. Why does he need his phone.]

[Wait, what?! What’s he doing?]

[He doesn’t need his phone; he hasn’t left the interrogation room! What is he doing?!]

[What’s happening?? Is he—]

[What do we do?!?]

[We have to call M—]

[—taking a fucking selfie with the body or—]

[—akoto, she can get to him!]

[—something?!]

[He’s going to discover that he’s in the meta—]

[But if Mako-chan shifts to reality, she’ll—]

[—verse if he tries to do anything!]

[Oh my god. We have to do something!]

[—get caught. We can’t risk that!]

**[NO]**

[F-Futaba?]

[What...happened?]

[It’s...over… He… He activated the nav. He’s in reality. In the room.]

[No!]

[We have to do something!]

[But what can we do at this point?]

[How did this happen?! We planned everything out!]

[What the FUCK?! He can’t… This can’t…]

[What’s he doing…? Is he leaving or is he just...in there?]

[He’s just...there. He went to the door, and now he’s just standing there…]

[...he’s pulling the nav up again. Going back into the Palace. I think he’s going to use it to leave without anyone seeing him. I...]

[Akira-kun………]

[No…]

[No!! We have to get down there! We can’t just let him walk away from this!]

[Hhh!]

[What is it?]

[He’s opening the text message app. But he’s in the metaverse, he knows he can’t text anyo—]

[Futaba. Futaba, what’s wrong?]

[H-He typed out a message. Didn’t send it. Just t-typed it. ‘Nice try, Oracle.’ A-And the phone cut off. He p-probably broke it… He knew I was… knew I was watching…]

[W-What?]

[Th-This is all my fault. It’s all my fault. I joked about being able to see your search histories in the Casino. If I’d just kept my big mouth shut…]

[Futaba-chan, of course it’s not your fault!]

[Don’t say that, Futaba! You didn’t know!]

[She hung up…]

[Morgana is with her. He’ll make sure she’s all right, until we can visit.]

[Wh-What are we going to tell Boss?]

[This is so fucked up… If I ever see that guy again, I’ll kill him myself.]

[...I’ll help.]

* * *

The morning of November 19th, for the first time, Goro skipped school simply because he couldn’t bring himself to go. He’d been excused before, of course, citing work, and “work”, and television appearances, and the occasional illness. But today he called in and lied. Today, he just didn’t feel like going.

Today he didn’t feel like anything.

After Akira had left and he’d made his excuses to the school, he forced himself out of his apartment, taking his bike and following all the familiar bike trails through the backstreets. Part of him wanted to go all the way to Yongen-Jaya. Leblanc’s atmosphere and coffee would probably help settle his nerves, if Akira wasn’t there. But Sakura-san would want to know why he wasn’t in school, and if people started asking questions now, he was sure he was going to break.

...he would never be able to go to Leblanc again after this, would he?

By the time they reached the Casino, his nerves were wound so tight he felt vaguely sick. The crimson lights of the high alert weren’t helping; other than Okumura’s Palace, this was the only time he’d ever experienced it, and the additional pressure of the environment was making him feel worse. But Sae’s shadow fell before them, and as the Thieves panicked about the police ambush, Goro did his best to sound as surprised as the rest. But most of his attention was drawn to Akira, volunteering to draw attention so the rest of them could escape. Because of course he would. That was the lynchpin of this plan, after all: knowledge of Akira’s constant drive to make sure everyone else was all right.

“Just make sure that you’re all safe. That’s all I care about.”

Goro stared at him, backlit by a million twinkling colored lights, grey eyes like embers as he prepared to sacrifice himself for his teammates. Beautiful, brave, impossible Joker, who could draw a change of heart from someone without even needing the metaverse, who had inspired this band of misfits to do the impossible and actually threaten the roots of the conspiracy that Shido had dug into Tokyo.

By tomorrow night, he would be a beautiful corpse.

Something twisted around Goro’s heart, something painful and ugly and wretched. This was all his fault. And at this point, only he could stop it. He could do it, if he dared. Follow the plan to the letter and then take it off the rails. Fake Akira’s death and bring him back to the Thieves, instead of putting a bullet in his head. They didn’t have to know what he had originally intended to do. He could be the hero, just for one moment.

Shido had taken everything else.

Shido couldn’t have Akira.

The Thieves had been exchanging good luck in the background, and Goro snapped from his thoughts as the group began to part ways. Before he could stop himself and reconsider, he called, “Joker!”

When Akira turned, Goro was already walking towards him, heedless of the other Thieves departing behind him. Their leader tilted his head curiously. “Crow? What is it?”

“Be careful,” Goro said, pushing forward past his nerves. “And, Joker… No... Akira.” This was too important for code names. This was all he could do for now. Give Akira hope, for when he got caught. “I love you.”

He watched Akira’s eyes go impossibly wide behind his mask. His lips parted, but he had nothing to say, too stunned by the confession. Goro knew the timing wasn’t ideal, but he had to work with what he had. “Go. We’ll be fine.”

Akira stared at him for a second longer, then nodded before sprinting back towards the door to the high-limit floor. Goro followed the other Thieves, taking the back hallways towards a side door while their Joker led security on a merry chase through the upper floors. They made it out of the Casino itself and across the street, just in time to get a view of Akira flinging himself through the stained glass window on the front of the building, a graceful shadow against the oversized moon. Unfortunately, he landed directly in front of the assembled police barricade, and his attempts to flee up a fire escape were halted by the butt of a gun connecting with his face.

Makoto’s voice was tight as she said, “Everyone, go home for tonight. We’ll meet at Leblanc tomorrow morning to discuss our next move.”

“We’ll get him back,” Goro said, still watching the officers cuffing and arresting Akira. No one answered, and they separated for the night with anxiety in their hearts, though Goro was certain that his was for a completely different reason. ‘Triple-agent’ wasn’t a role he ever thought he’d be filling, especially since he was trying to hide it from _both_ sides. But he’d made his decision. All that was left was following through.

His resolve didn’t make sleep come any easier, though, and when he arrived at Leblanc the next morning to a very somber meeting of the Phantom Thieves, he was hiding dark circles under makeup.

“I’ll get him out,” he promised, to a sea of stony faces. “Sae-san is going to question him, and after that, I’ll be able to go in, because they’ve tapped me to help with the public security questioning. I can sneak him out. No one will know how he escaped.”

“Won’t you be the first suspect?” Ryuji huffed.

Goro summoned up a beaming smile despite the urge to scowl at him. “Of course not. I’m the media’s golden boy; they wouldn’t dare accuse me of something so terrible. The public backlash would be astronomical.”

“We’ll leave it to you, then, Akechi-kun,” Makoto said.

“The rest of us should lay low for now, right?” Yusuke asked.

“Yes. Go home, go about your day, take care of yourselves. Don’t give anyone reason to suspect anything,” Goro replied. “The police wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to bring in the rest of you, even with Akira in custody.”

“We just want Akira-kun to be safe,” Haru said, steel in her voice, and Goro nodded.

“He’ll be fine. Just like after the game in the Casino. Trust me.”

They could think whatever they wanted of him. If they didn’t trust him now, they would when he returned with Akira in tow. God only knew what they would have done if he wasn’t here. But right now, all he needed to focus on was what he had to do to get Akira out. It was a good thing he’d gotten so much practice deceiving people. After they escaped, he was going to likely have to lie to the police, to Shido, and probably to the Thieves, until it was safe enough to come clean.

The ‘public security questioning’ was late in the afternoon, after Sae’s opportunity to question the suspect. The plan was for Goro to go in sooner than scheduled, as soon as Sae was done, complete his task, and get out. All he had to do was use the extra time to get Akira into the metaverse instead while the cameras were off, then pretend to be as ignorant as everyone else who was involved.

And then? Maybe he could feed the Thieves Shido’s name himself. As long as he got to confront the Shadow in the end.

On his way down to the interrogation room, he stopped briefly to speak to Sae, who seemed a little off-kilter. Goro wondered how much Akira had told her, and how much she had believed. The metaverse was something impossible to an ordinary person without proof.

She asked him something about Akira’s phone, but he brushed her off. He didn’t want to seem too knowledgeable, too close to Akira, and he didn’t have much time. So he said his farewells and headed down to the interrogation room. He told the guard at the door to go to the coroner and tell him that there had “been a change of plans, just worry about the certificate”, and then headed inside the room.

Akira was there, bruised but looking otherwise no worse for wear, and Goro smiled with relief.

“I came to get you,” he explained quickly, once the door had shut. “We’re going to have to be fast; the cameras are off, but not for long. I’ll explain everything once we’re out, but we need to go.”

Akira said nothing, just looked at him with tired, defiant eyes, and Goro held up his hands.

“I know, I know, this seems risky, but trust me, okay?” He pulled out his original phone, clearing the lockscreen and hesitating. He’d left the Thieves group chat open when he’d last put the phone away, and now it was gone. He’d been removed from the group. “...what…?”

Trying to click through the options brought up connection error messages, and Goro frowned, something uncertain nagging at the back of his thoughts. But he didn’t have time for that now. He needed the nav.

Pulling up the nav menu, though, revealed his current location as Sae’s Palace.

His thoughts screeched to a halt and derailed. How? How was he in the Palace? He hadn’t even had his phone out until now. Why would…

Akira’s phone. Sae had been holding Akira’s phone.

And Futaba could hack all of the Thieves’ phones.

This had been deliberate. Whatever they had done, they had intended to throw him into the metaverse. If he’d still intended to kill Akira, he’d have shot a cognitive, and probably left with no idea. Which meant...they’d known. They’d all known. They’d sat there, this very morning, listening to him explain his intentions to rescue their leader, and none of them had said _anything_.

Little things started clicking into place, aside glances and whispered conversations and… 

And Akira had been crying. Akira had been crying that night because he _knew_. What the hell was that confession, then? What the fuck had he been thinking, having the nerve to say something like that when he’d been planning to trick Goro? Was he angling for mercy, even with their plan? God _damn_ it!

Goro hit the option to return to reality. If Futaba was watching him now, let her think her plan had failed. Let her panic. Fuck them. Fuck all of them.

He knew when the switch had occurred this time because the Akira facing him now had his head down on the table. Goro took a step forward, snarling, “What did you _do?!”_

But Akira didn’t respond, other than to flinch and shiver, and Goro’s eyes caught up to his mouth. “...Akira?” he murmured. This Akira was in much worse shape than the cognitive. There were cuts visible around his wrists, even more and darker bruises, and what little Goro could see of his eyes was hazy and unfocused. The needles all over the floor provided some answers, though not all, and against his will, Goro felt his some of his anger ebb. Akira was hurt, badly. He still had to do something. But there was no one left he could trust.

Time was ticking. He had to make a decision. He just needed somewhere that Akira could recover, and he’d figure out how to fix this when they were safe.

He went to the door, brushing off the guard’s confusion about how he’d gotten in, and gave him the same instructions he’d given the fake guard, with the added advice to get out of the city so he wouldn’t be scapegoated. The guard looked confused, but obeyed, and then Goro turned back to face Akira and re-selected Sae’s Palace on the nav. Proximity would bring Akira with him, now.

Once he’d shifted back, he opened his text messages. Still seething at how they had played him for a fool, he typed out a single message. It wouldn’t send, but if Futaba saw it with her bugs, she would get the point. Then he dropped the phone and stomped on it until it was in pieces. To hell with them.

He turned back to the barely-conscious thief slumped over the table. The cognitive had been shoved aside when the real Akira appeared, and was just sitting on the floor, unmoving. Goro ignored him, but when he tried to approach the real one, blue fire blazed to life to cut him off, and Arsène materialized in the space between them.

_Good evening, mon petit corbeau._

Goro stepped back instinctively. “What the hell…?”

_So long as my thief is at least partly conscious, I can still manifest,_ Arsène said. His voice was deep, the echoes of a demon beneath the gentlemanly exterior.

“O-On your own? Without being summoned?” Goro tried to keep his voice even, but with one revelation after another slapping him in the face, it was difficult.

The wide grin on Arsène’s face seemed to get even larger. _Indeed. With less consciousness, unconsciousness has more freedom to run wild._

Goro swallowed hard. He could fight Arsène, but he didn’t want to. This was an unexpected obstacle, but he could figure it out. “He’s… He’s hurt. I want to help him. Please, help me get him out of here. Can you do that?”

Arsène said nothing, watching him with burning eyes, and Goro said desperately, “I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t! I love him. Do you… Do you trust me?” He didn’t know what he was going to do if he couldn’t get Akira somewhere safe. Arsène had to understand; he didn’t want to lose Akira. And if he stayed...Shido would send someone else to finish the job.

_......we do. We have always wanted to believe in you,_ Arsène said. _He was not lying either, mon cher. Not with regards to his feelings._

It was...a relief. It didn’t change that Akira had lied about...everything else, but he didn’t think Arsène was lying to him now. “Please,” he said. “We have to go.”

Arsène moved away from Goro, carefully lifting Akira from the chair to cradle him. Akira let out a pained moan as he was moved; he looked so small in Arsène’s hold.

“We need to get outside, and then shift to reality, just for a minute,” Goro explained. “If we go to the real world and then back to the metaverse, will you be able to reappear?”

_I am here so long as my thief is not completely unconscious,_ Arsène assured him.

And so, with Arsène trailing behind, making no sound save for the occasional flap of his wings, they made their way out of the cognitive precinct and into the streets, where Goro led them to an out-of-the-way alley. There he pulled out his other phone and returned them to the real world, making sure they were out of view before calling Shido. It had been a good decision to get a second phone; Futaba wouldn’t be able to find him like this, not until he was ready. The nav had even appeared on both, however that worked.

Shido accepted his report that his task was done, and then with hands that only shook a little, Goro pulled up the nav again and selected Mementos, grateful to see that Arsène reappeared as soon as they had shifted over.

He had done a lot of exploring since his awakening. The Thieves were more interested in the depths, but there was an entire city aboveground, a near-perfect duplicate of Tokyo. The shadows aboveground weren’t hostile; he wasn’t considered a threat outside of the subway. He was just left alone. Being Tokyo, there was a perfect replica of his own apartment, and he’d used it before as a base to rest and recuperate when he’d gotten hurt. There were extra clothes there, some bottled water, an extra first-aid kit… He could get food from the real world as needed. That would give him a few days, at least. Goro would have time to figure out what he was going to do about everyone and everything else. But the most important thing would be that Akira was safe while he recovered.

That was the first priority.

* * *

Silence filled the apartment as Goro paused his story and took a breath. Despite the opening, Akira said nothing, and after a moment, the detective concluded, “Arsène carried you for me until you finally lost consciousness completely, and then I brought you the rest of the way here. And from there, you know what happened. I tried to clean your wounds, you woke up, and you’ve been here since. This is aboveground Mementos. You’ve been in the metaverse the whole time.”

Akira walked over and slowly set the knife on the dresser. His voice was thin when he said, “I suppose that really does confirm why I healed so fast. That scrap of Takemi-sensei’s patch has been working one speck at a time since the night before last.”

“One of the healing patches?” Goro asked. He hadn’t known Akira was wearing one, or he might not have been caught so off-guard. He hadn’t expected the truth to come out for another few days, or if it had, for Akira to still be too weak to do much.

Akira nodded. “I wear one most missions. We only have a few; they’re expensive, and they only last so long. I keep them for myself. They don’t work as fast as a spell, but it means the healers can focus on the others.” He looked down at the floor. “You...were coming to save me. You changed your mind about killing me at the last minute.”

Goro swallowed hard. He felt empty again. Even trying to be the hero had gone wrong. “I realized I didn’t want to lose you. I’d convinced myself months ago that there was no way you could possibly want me, that my stupid infatuation would never go anywhere, and that it didn’t matter after Shido ordered you dead. But then that ridiculous game handed me everything I wanted and confirmed that you wanted it too, and I thought I could get over it, but I didn’t. It just got worse and worse, and now… And now I’ve ruined it.”

Akira tilted his head, questioning, and Goro scoffed. “There’s certainly no way that you would want me now. Not now that you know the truth.”

“Were you ever going to tell us the truth?” Akira asked quietly.

“After I got you out.” To Goro’s great mortification, his eyes were stinging like he was about to cry. “I promised them I would help you. I promised I would bring you back to them. And once I had, once they knew I wasn’t lying, I was going to confess everything. But I ruined it. I panicked when I realized that I had been dropped into the metaverse. I let them think you were dead, I hurt them, because I was so angry that you’d all made a fool me for so long.” He looked away, snarling, “And before you say anything, I’m well aware that it’s hypocritical of me, getting angry over a lie when that’s all I do. But I didn’t lie about all of it. That confession was the truth. Every night we spent together was the truth. I told you, it meant something to me, too. And you did let me bring you here. Arsène is you; if you thought I was going to hurt you, he wouldn’t have helped me. So please...”

He didn’t dare look at Akira, wary of scorn and derision and rejection. Even if that was all he deserved, for screwing up as badly as he had. But after a long moment, Akira _laughed_ , though it sounded uncertain.

“All of this was just a big misunderstanding, because each of us didn’t know something,” he said slowly. “You didn’t know that _we_ knew about your plan, so you didn’t think changing it would cause any problems. And we didn’t know that you had changed your mind, so we just carried on with the deception, and hurt you by accident. God, it’s… Everything went exactly, perfectly wrong, didn’t it?” 

He laughed again, slightly hysterical this time, and Goro finally looked back over at him. He was swaying on his feet, and without thinking, Goro got up and rushed over, wrapping an arm around him. “You idiot, healing patch or not, you’re still not completely back to normal…!”

But then he stopped, because Akira was crying again, crying and laughing at the same time, and he reached up and grabbed Goro’s face and dragged him into a messy kiss that got tears everywhere. Goro barely had time to kiss back, and then Akira buried his face in his neck.

“We’re okay,” he said, muffled. “I’m not dead… You didn’t… You aren’t going to... You saved me. We’re _okay_.”

Goro held him tighter and let him cry. “Yeah…” he said softly. “Somehow. We’re okay.”

If he ever figured out which cops had scarred Akira so badly, nothing would save them.

It took some coaxing to get Akira to lie back down, but eventually he managed, sitting on the bed with Akira’s head in his lap and one hand in Akira’s hair. The other hand was trapped in Akira’s own, and Akira looked up at him with eyes only a little red from crying and asked, “You love me?”

“Yes. You still love me?”

“Mhm.” Akira squeezed his hand. “...you’re Black Mask?”

“...yes.”

“Who were you working for?”

“Masayoshi Shido,” Goro replied, noting Akira’s use of past tense.

Akira hummed. “We should have just asked…”

“If you had asked before the heist, I would have reacted badly.”

“...I know.” Akira kissed the knuckles of his captured hand. “Why did you work for him?”

“It’s a very long story, Akira.”

“Will you tell us?”

Goro sighed. “Before or after your friends dismember me slowly?” He knew that the other Thieves would trust him even less now. He was barely sure why Akira still trusted him, after what he’d done in a fit of panic and anger.

But Akira shook his head. “I won’t let them,” he said. “I won’t. But you have to tell them the truth, even though the rest of this didn’t go like it was supposed to.”

“I’m not particularly looking forward to explaining what happened again,” Goro muttered. “But I will. For you.”

He stroked Akira’s hair, scritched gently behind his ear. But when he dragged his fingertips along the line of his jaw, Akira flinched, and he pulled his hand away. “I’m sorry…”

“No, it’s… It’s not your fault,” Akira said. “Touch is...weird right now. Because of...”

“I understand. And… I know it’s partly me as well. Don’t lie to spare my feelings,” Goro murmured. “I betrayed your trust, and I don’t even know where to begin earning it back.”

Akira sat up, still holding Goro’s hand. “Come back to Yongen with me. We can go tonight. Explain everything to the others, and then, once I’m completely better, we can go after Shido. That’s what I want, and I’m pretty sure it’s what you want, too.”

Goro hesitated. To himself, he could admit that he was afraid of the other Thieves. In the end, all he had right now was Akira, when he didn’t even deserve to. If they convinced Akira that Goro shouldn’t be forgiven… It would be understandable, but it would still hurt. More than he might be able to bear.

But he had to do this. He had to make things right, as best he could. So he squeezed his hand. “Let’s go, then. We can travel through Mementos to avoid anyone seeing you, at least until we get closer to Yongen.”

Akira beamed, and his smile was radiant. But then he looked down at himself and laughed awkwardly. “Maybe...in something other than borrowed pajamas?”

Goro laughed, too. “I’ll find you some clothes. Contrary to popular belief, I do have casual outfits that aren’t sweatervests.”

By the time they made it across the city to Yongen-Jaya, Sojiro was locking up the front door of the cafe. Goro’s stride faltered just for a moment, but he pressed onwards, Akira a few steps back and mostly behind him. He could tell the exact moment that Sojiro recognized him, because the man’s expression instantly hardened.

“You have some nerve, coming here,” Sojiro said coldly.

Goro had to commend him for appearing unafraid, considering that he probably believed Goro had murdered his kid. But he stopped under a light, and as Akira came into proper view behind him, said quietly, “I think we all need to talk.”

Sojiro’s mouth fell open. “Akira?!”

“Sojiro!” They had discovered that Akira’s injuries caused him more fatigue in reality, but it didn’t stop him from stumbling past Goro to hug the cafe owner. Sojiro hugged him back, eyes wide over his shoulder, and demanded, “Akira, what… What the hell happened to you?”

Akira shook his head. When he let go, he stepped back to reach for Goro’s hand. “We should call the others, first. This is going to be a long story. And...please don’t be too angry at Goro.”

“Don’t… Akira, they told me he _killed_ you!” Sojiro said, trying to keep his voice down.

“Like I said, a long story,” Akira said. “Please. We’re going to explain.”

They didn’t even have to call Futaba. Five minutes after Sojiro ushered the two boys into the cafe, she flung the door open with a scream and launched herself at Akira, bawling into his shirt. Morgana was a step behind her, jumping from floor to table to Akira’s shoulder, where he settled into the hood of Akira’s jacket and refused to move. Once Futaba had confirmed he was really there and cried all over him, she turned on Goro, who was prepared to accept any kind of beating she was about to deal out.

But as promised, Akira didn’t let her attack him, and Goro retreated to a booth near the back to await the arrival of the rest of the Thieves. All of them reacted much the same: joy at the sight of Akira alive and well, and hostility at his presence. Makoto was the only one who spoke directly to him, though, asking sharply, “What are you doing here?”

She had a lot of nerve. Goro offered a forced smile, sniping back, “I believe I told you that I would help him escape safely. Didn’t I?”

“Guys,” Akira interrupted. “Don’t.”

“He let us think you were dead!”

“You’re the ones who sent him into that interrogation with a plan that, if I’ve interpreted correctly, was running entirely on coincidence and overconfidence.”

_“Don’t,”_ Akira ordered. “Makoto, we’re going to explain. Sit down.”

And so they did, from the beginning. Dates in the aftermath of the Casino game, thankfully not in detail. Both of their stories of what had happened on the twentieth. An explanation of the past two days in the metaverse, and how everything had been impulse and anger and misunderstanding, after a change of heart that came at the last moment. And then Goro took over completely, explaining his former role as Black Mask, and how and why he’d come to work for Masayoshi Shido.

Goro knew, watching their faces, that it wasn’t enough. That they were more wary of him now than ever. Which was completely understandable. That last message to Futaba had been nothing but cruel, caught up in the moment. But at least they no longer looked like they wanted him to hang from the ceiling beams. Except perhaps Haru, who had been staring into her lap since he’d explained the trick with Okumura.

At the very least, they could all agree that Shido needed to go down, because he could bring down a significant chunk of his underlings with him. And that, for now, was good enough.

Akira, sitting beside him with their fingers laced under the table, was more than enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's kind of incredible how easily the Thieves' plan falls apart if even one little thing goes wrong. If Akechi had taken out his phone for literally any reason, game over.
> 
> And thus we have our answers. ^_^
> 
> Everyone had good intentions. Everyone was telling the truth. Everyone was lying about something. And everything went horribly wrong because all those lies got tangled on each other at the wrong moment.
> 
> Next chapter: It takes a while to earn back lost trust. But I do remember that this is a porn fic. XD


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's been almost a whole month. I'm very sorry. I got caught up in con crunch, and then when the con was over, it took a bit to regain momentum. But here we are at the end of this thing, finally!

The next few months were busy for the Phantom Thieves. With Goro’s help, they faced down Masayoshi Shido, tearing down the corruption that had twisted its way into Tokyo. And when even that wasn’t enough, they descended further than ever before to rip it out by the roots. They learned that they had been used, right from the start. That they had been pitted against each other in a rigged game. A false god fell before their determination. One of their own went to jail to make things right.

And after, it was time to rebuild.

“You’re going out tonight?” Sojiro called from the kitchen as Akira thumped down the stairs. He’d been much more attentive since November. They all had. It had been a harsh wake-up call, thinking that Akira was dead and knowing there was nothing they could do. They’d let him throw himself into their plan, without any safety nets, and it had almost gone horribly wrong. So in the aftermath, they refused to let him sacrifice any more for their sake. They bore their burdens together, and kept each other safe.

Akira stopped on the other side of the counter, duffle slung over his shoulder, as Sojiro emerged from the back. “Yeah, I’m, uh… I’m spending the night at Goro’s.”

Sojiro leveled a stare at him. “Are you taking Morgana?”

“He’s with Haru.” 

Ever since November, Morgana had accompanied him almost everywhere, even when he was sleeping over at Goro’s, or Goro was staying in the attic with him. Akira had agreed that was fair, all things considered. But tonight, he just wanted some space for them. It had taken a while for things to make their way back to a comfortable medium, especially with being separated. But there had been phone calls to the jail, the Thieves had gotten time to mull over Goro’s actions, and while no one was best friends, Goro wasn’t the pariah that he’d expected to be.

Sojiro was still staring, drying a mug with a stern expression, but after a moment he said, “Are you taking food with you?” and Akira knew things were okay.

“I’m picking some stuff up on the way,” he said, smiling. “Snack stuff for movies.”

“Don’t just eat junk food all night,” Sojiro said, and he rounded the counter to give Akira a hug. “Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I will. Night, Sojiro.” Akira returned the hug, grateful, and headed out. Early evening meant plenty of people still up and about, but the store wasn’t crowded at all, and there were plenty of places to sit on the train. By the time he reached Goro’s apartment, he had a full selection of snacks, and Goro greeted him at the door with a soft smile and ushered him inside.

“No chaperone?” he teased, his voice warm.

Akira bumped his shoulder against Goro’s, already on his way to drop his duffle bag in the bedroom. “Morgana is eating his weight in expensive sushi with Haru tonight. He knows I’ll be all right.”

“How scandalous,” Goro chuckled. “Whoever will stop me from doing indecent things to you?”

A laugh escaped before Akira could stop it, ruining his serious expression. “You act like we haven’t asked Morgana to sleep in the living room once or twice already.”

“...good point.”

Touch was still uncomfortable sometimes. Every once in a while something didn’t feel right and he would flinch, but his friends understood, and Goro was always keeping an eye on his reactions. They were learning, slowly, how to take care of each other, all of them recovering from the insane year they’d had.

Goro gestured to the couch, where he’d set up blankets and drinks. “Thanks for getting the snacks. Haru-chan recommended a scary movie that she says will be suitable for both of us. No gore, no extreme violence. Some kind of found-footage thing, mostly suspense.”

“Sounds good.” Akira grabbed his bags of chips and candy and pecked Goro on the cheek. They bundled onto the couch, and Goro started the movie, one arm around Akira under the blankets. For the first half an hour or so, they were laughing, making fun of the characters and feeding each other snacks. But the longer the movie went on, the tighter Goro held onto Akira. By the ending, when doors were slamming and lights were flashing and one of the characters was talking in the voice of the legion, Goro was squeezing him like a stuffed animal.

Akira squirmed against the arms around his waist. “What, are you scared of that?” he laughed, reaching up to cradle Goro’s head where it was tucked partially into his hair. “Goro, you can’t even see the demon.”

“It’s not that…” Goro muttered. “I’m not afraid of _demons_. But the idea of something in my home, messing with me, and I can’t do anything…” Onscreen, the possessed character hurled her boyfriend directly at the camera, and Goro jumped.

“Ah, I see…” Akira tipped his head back far enough to nuzzle the side of Goro’s. “In that case, I’ll have to rethink my plan to move everything in your apartment two centimeters to the left.”

“Don’t you dare.”

The credits were rolling, but neither of them were paying attention. Akira nipped his earlobe. “If it’ll upset you that much, I won’t. There are better things to do, anyway.”

“I can agree with that,” Goro murmured, pressing his lips to the side of Akira’s neck. “What kind of things did you have in mind?”

Akira hesitated for a moment, then, being careful not to dislodge the blankets, shifted enough to turn around, swing his leg over Goro’s lap, and straddle him. “We should be taking advantage of Morgana being away, shouldn’t we?” He scooted in close, pressing their hips snugly together. “You still have the rope, don’t you?”

Goro’s eyes widened. His arms were still around Akira’s waist, and he held a little tighter. “I do, but… Do you think you’re ready for that? We’ve only been intimate twice since...everything. That seems like a bit of a jump.”

“It’s only twice if you don’t count making out,” Akira huffed. “And technically we were only ‘intimate’ three times before we tried it the first time. I want to. I’m…” He bit his lip. They’d promised to be honest. After everything, Akira had made Goro promise to just _communicate_ , because even a _hint_ could have given them an opening to figure things out before it went so wrong. So, he had to be honest now. 

“It’s...frustrating,” he admitted. “I don’t want to flinch if someone sneaks up on me or touches me wrong. I hate it, especially because I love you, and I trust you, but it feels like there’s this invisible wall still. Like you’re afraid of hurting me. So I want to do this. I want to try, at least. Please.”

Goro sighed, leaning his forehead against Akira’s collarbone. “It’s partially my fault,” he murmured. He didn’t usually voice the guilt that still gnawed at him sometimes, but this was important. “You’re right; I am afraid to do something to break your trust again. I know we’re doing so much better, but it all still feels so fragile.” His hands slipped under Akira’s shirt, resting on his waist. “I want to try, too, but...compromise with me? I’ll tie you up, but not restrain you. Does that sound fair?”

Akira tilted his head. “I don’t know how that works, but it sounds good. As long as you actually fuck me at some point. Oral is nice, but… We don’t have to worry about being loud if Morgana isn’t here.”

“That’s right,” Goro murmured, leaning up to kiss him. “I can tease you until you’re begging me to fill you up. Until you’re so lost in pleasure that you’re not even aware of how loud you’re being. Just like the first time, when you felt so good that nothing else mattered but my touch…”

Goro’s hands were wandering further up his shirt, and Akira shivered at the words, pressing their lips back together for a deeper kiss. He _wanted_ so badly, after months without. Goro was lucky Akira hadn’t just dragged him to bed when he got to the apartment. Even for Valentine’s, they hadn’t gotten any further than blowjobs. He’d appreciated Goro’s patience with him after everything, when it felt like the smallest thing could turn him into a shaking mess, reliving the interrogation. But now he just wanted to forget everything and enjoy himself.

He yelped when Goro pushed him back and off the couch, stumbling to his feet. But Goro was just a step behind him, cutting off the TV and reaching down to hook his arm under Akira’s knees so he could lift him up like a princess. Akira smiled, nuzzling his shoulder. “Have I mentioned that I really like the side effects of your rock-climbing hobby?”

“Have I mentioned that I like carrying you when you’re not terribly hurt?” Goro countered, returning the smile, already walking towards the bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind them once they were inside and moved to lay Akira down on the bed. Unlike the last time they’d done this, he started undressing Akira himself, pulling his shirt over his head and working his pants and underwear down, mindful not to be rough. “No socks this time?” he teased.

“No,” Akira sighed. “Not this time. And don’t you dare try to tickle me or I’ll kick you.”

“That wouldn’t be sexy in the slightest,” Goro murmured. He paused, his hand stroking down Akira’s side. “Are you sure you want to do this?” The last thing he wanted was to do something to upset his partner, even though he had ideas for starting them off slow. “You can still back out.”

Akira sat up and pulled his knees in slightly, still a little shy about being completely undressed while Goro was fully clothed, and kissed him softly. “I’m fine, I promise. I’ll tell you to stop if anything isn’t right.”

Goro kissed back, then caught his hands and pulled him to stand up. “All right. I’m holding you to that promise. Keep still, now.”

He fetched a rope, soft and black, and tied a loop at one end before draping the length over Akira’s neck. Akira watched him pull a loop through and murmured curiously, “Slipknot?”

“Unorthodox, I know, but the tension makes it safe,” Goro explained. He peered at Akira from under his lashes, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Watch this.”

“Hm?” But Akira’s voice caught as Goro leaned in to hold the loop between his teeth, getting close enough that Akira could feel his breath against his chest as he pulled the free end of the rope behind Akira’s back. “... _oh_...”

Goro worked his way down, loop through loop through loop, pressing kisses along the planes of Akira’s abdomen as he went. Akira stayed quiet as much as he could, but let out a quiet whimper as Goro eventually landed on his knees and nipped along the lines of his hips.

“Okay?” Goro questioned, holding the last loop and reaching up to tug at the finished part of the harness. It was snug, loops carefully placed in a zigzag, with no knots to complicate the pattern.

“Yeah,” Akira said breathlessly. “It’s comfortable, actually.”

“I don’t know, you seem rather tense,” Goro commented, feigning concern. It was so entertaining to watch Akira squirm, and he deliberately leaned in for another kiss, this time at the top of his thigh.

“Your face is right next to my cock, of course I’m tense,” Akira complained, laughing, and reached down to run his fingers through Goro’s hair. “You should probably finish the harness, or I’m going to get distracted trying to convince you to suck me off.”

“Perhaps later,” Goro murmured, and Akira’s knees buckled as he very deliberately nuzzled the hard length, before running the rope carefully between his legs. It looped over one of the ropes against his back, then back, framing his cock. Goro brought the free end up and tied it off in another slipknot, then got to his feet and gave Akira a lingering kiss. “Bound, but not restrained,” he said against his lips. “As promised. It suits you, I think.”

One of Akira’s hands dropped to palm the tent in Goro’s pants, and he grinned wolfishly. “This makes it pretty obvious that you like seeing me trussed up in ropes,” he teased, as Goro unconsciously ground against his touch. “But now that I’m decked out, you’re wearing too many clothes.” Without waiting for permission, he went after Goro’s pants and t-shirt, stripping clothes off until Goro was just as bare as he was.

They tumbled into bed, hands and lips roaming, though Akira was at a little bit of a disadvantage, considering Goro could grab the ropes and use them to maneuver him as he wanted. But he never objected, content to touch and be touched. Eventually he managed to pin Goro to the sheets, grinding down against his boyfriend with a needy, “Fuck me already, you’re driving me crazy.”

Goro cupped his face, pulling him down into a consuming kiss that stole his breath and scrambled his thoughts. When he resurfaced from the pleasure, Goro had somehow escaped from beneath him, and was rummaging through the bedside table for lube. “How did you do that?”

“You’re easy to distract with kisses,” Goro replied with a wink. “Now, if you want to be fucked so badly, stay still so I can prep you.”

Akira, still perched on his knees, wiggled his ass at him. But when Goro actually moved behind him, groping a cheek, he faltered. His logical brain knew it was Goro, knew everything was fine, but for some reason, something felt wrong. “Hey…”

“What’s wrong?” Goro asked, pulling his hand back. “The ropes?”

“No… I’m not… I’m not sure. I think it’s the position, but I don’t know why,” Akira admitted.

Goro was quiet for a moment. He had a guess, but he would never consider voicing it. Instead, he scooted over so he could nudge Akira’s side. “On your back, then? Or do you want to stop?”

“On my back.” Akira rolled over, spreading his legs and batting his eyes at Goro. “This is fine, right?”

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask. I want you to be comfortable, idiot.” Goro leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss to his stomach. Akira was so… Akira. Honestly. Thinking that his discomfort was a bother? Never. He blew a raspberry against Akira’s skin, and when the other boy let out a half-laugh, half-screech, he took the opportunity to slip his fingers between his legs, parting the ropes and brushing over his entrance. “Better now?” he asked, peering up at him innocently.

“You asshole,” Akira said affectionately. “Yeah, I’m good now. Thanks.”

Goro’s fingers were tender as they pressed inside, and he sat back up so he could watch Akira’s face. But Akira just closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of being stretched and the ropes wrapped snugly around his torso. It was a good feeling, like being held. He almost wished Goro had bound his arms, but rationally he knew it was better not to be restrained yet. He knew he couldn’t tolerate anything around his wrists; arms was a risk better not taken just now. It was much nicer to focus on how good Goro’s fingers felt working him open.

Goro listened to him moan, idly stroking his thigh with his free hand. “I’ve been tempted to ride you. Maybe next time, since you’ve made your desires tonight very clear.”

Akira’s eyes widened. “You would want to do that?” he asked. “I… I’d like that, I just didn’t think…”

“Just because I’ve taken charge up to this point doesn’t mean I would be opposed to switching roles.” Goro slid his fingers free and moved between Akira’s legs. “Especially now that you have more experience.”

“Yeah, maybe now I could manage to make _you_ incoherent,” Akira said brightly. But his next words were cut off on a moan as Goro started to push inside, and he grabbed for his boyfriend instead, pulling him down to bury his face in his shoulder as he was filled. “Mmmmhh, _Goro_...”

Goro braced on hand on the bed, cradling Akira against him with the other as he set an even pace. “Akira…” he murmured, right against his ear, and felt Akira shiver in his arms. “You feel so good...”

“You feel even better, god…” Akira dug his nails into Goro’s back with an even louder moan. “I love you so much; I hope you like being stuck with me, because I’m never giving you up…”

“Never,” Goro agreed breathlessly, rocking harder against Akira. The world shrank down to the two of them moving together, heat and pleasure and a perfectly-matched rhythm. Akira still broke first, scoring red lines across Goro’s shoulders as he came, and Goro followed him a few thrusts later, muffling his cry into Akira’s neck.

There was quiet for a minute, both of them breathing heavily, and then Akira laughed. “I missed that,” he said. But then, quieter, he said, “I missed _you_. I didn’t like feeling like we were walking on eggshells. Thank you…”

Goro curled up beside him, running his fingers along the line of Akira’s jaw. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I just didn’t want to hurt you by accident, considering I managed that quite spectacularly once already.”

“You don’t have to worry so much,” Akira promised, leaning into the touch. “I’m okay, really. And if I’m not, I’ll tell you.” He stretched languidly, then picked at the ropes. “I guess I have to take these off if we’re going to clean up…”

“Mmhm.” Goro propped himself up on one elbow, a slight smirk on his face. “Want to see one last trick?”

Akira considered. He was spent for the moment, but on the other hand, the look on his boyfriend’s face was tempting. “Sure. What have you got up your non-existent sleeves, honey?”

Goro nudged him to lift his hips just enough to undo the ropes that ran between his legs. Then, with a smile, he ran his hand straight up the middle of Akira’s abdomen from hip to collarbones, underneath the ropes. The loops came loose as he did, all the way up, leaving Akira laying on a zigzag of rope as the harness collapsed. Akira’s eyes widened. “Oh wow. That was cool!”

“That’s why it was built on slipknots,” Goro explained, leaning down to kiss him. “Something that comes off quickly, just in case.”

Akira laughed. “As always, you put so much thought into everything.” He sat up, resisting the urge to just flop on top of Goro. “Come on, we need to take a shower before I decide I’d rather stay here and try to get you hard again.”

“Not the worst way to spend an evening…” Goro said. He caught Akira’s hand, tugging gently. “You’re going home next week, and I don’t know when I’ll see you after that. We can take a shower once we’re actually ready to go to bed.”

“You’re such a bad influence,” Akira murmured, tossing himself back into bed. Goro immediately wrapped an arm over him, and he nuzzled Goro’s cheek. “So what was that about you riding me?”

“Let me recover a little and I‘ll show you,” Goro teased.

It had been a long road back to real trust, but they had finally reached a point where they could be completely comfortable with each other again. Akira didn’t want to think of sex as a trust exercise, but they really had come full-circle. That was how all of this had started, after all. 

Eventually they made it out of bed to clean up, and by the time they got out of the shower, Akira was yawning. But that didn’t stop him from snuggling up to Goro and saying sleepily, “Hey, when I come home from seeing my parents… Because I’m definitely coming home after seeing my parents… Do you want to maybe… Pick out an apartment together?”

Goro shifted to stare at him, shocked, and Akira backpedaled quickly. “I, I mean, Sojiro said he would help me find a place, because Leblanc is nice, and I love it, but I would like to have an actual shower, and I just thought… Because it would be somewhere that wasn’t an attic…”

“Or an apartment full of questionable memories,” Goro said softly.

“That’s not what I—”

“Yes, Akira,” Goro said, putting a finger over his mouth. “I would love to pick out an apartment with you. I’m happy you asked.” He removed his finger long enough for a kiss, then said, “But please go to sleep, because I am far too tired to discuss the specifics right now.”

Akira beamed like Goro had handed him the world. “Okay!” His enthusiasm was broken by another yawn, and he burrowed down against Goro. “In the morning, then. It’s a promise.”

After he dropped off, Goro stayed awake a little longer, stroking his hair. They’d been through a lot to get here. To a future he’d never been able to picture before. A promise of each day being something _better_ than before.

That was a promise he was going to keep, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back again on-brand with being an absolute sap for the ending. Akira really needs to learn to stop having important conversations when he should be sleeping. This is what happens when Morgana isn't around. XD
> 
> They're watching ~~Paranormal Activity~~ _Supernatural Shenanigans_.
> 
> I was purposefully vague on which of them went to jail. But whichever it was, assume they were only there for as long as Akira was in-game.
> 
> The harness that Goro used is [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lc9SEJPcWgo)
> 
> The CSS for the faded text effect I used during the interrogation, as well as some instructions and some tips for other colors, is [here.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1iWoaz31B2gCA8tpHDNST4r5dxGLIiVkaxOZ1uS5yuqg/edit?usp=sharing)
> 
> If you want to see the Cursed Chart used for the game in chapter 1, that is [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tAl-kSebUuYyEb_-iN2OApYOsfMiSFHyH2mWjcNlCBI/edit?usp=sharing). ;)
> 
> I hope the conclusion was worth waiting for. Thanks for reading. <3


End file.
